The Captain of the Dawnguard
by whoknowsheregoes
Summary: AU CaptainSwan. Some Rumbelle too. Emma Swan has led a pretty sheltered life as a princess. Her parents are the rulers of a kingdom which has enjoyed many years of peace & prosperity after defeating the Evil Queen, who's been locked away in a magical prison cell created by the evil sorcerer Rumplestiltskin. But all magic comes with a price. And now it's time to pay.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Although you'll see the words "Redguard" and "Dawnguard" in this fic, it has nothing to do with Skyrim whatsoever. Just loved the way those words sound perfect to suit my purposes. Nothing belongs to me, obviously. If it did, I'd be a lot richer and a lot happier with the way the whole Emma &amp; Killian thing is panning out on the show right now. ;)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma Swan was bored.

Bored out of her mind.

She knew she should be thankful for the peace her kingdom enjoyed. She'd heard enough stories from her parents to know that it was hard fought.

Emma had never known anything but happiness as a child. She'd grown up in a beautiful castle with her parents Snow White and Prince Charming, now the King and Queen of the realm, and her family was much beloved by all their loyal subjects.

The Old Usurper, as many called her, had long been locked away in a special magical prison, deep beneath the castle. But before that, she'd been known as the Evil Queen. Emma had heard the story (many times) of how the Evil Queen had branded her mother an outlaw and driven her from the kingdom into exile, then tried to cast a curse to send them all to a land without magic and without happy endings. Sometimes, Emma wished she had succeeded. But she didn't. Her parents had struck a deal with the sorcerer Rumplestiltskin, the terms of which they'd never shared with her, and he'd been the one to create the magical prison beneath the castle and entrap the Evil Queen. And there she was kept under constant watch by a particular regiment of soldiers, specially commissioned and ordained for the task. The Redguard, they were called, charged with the protection of the realm.

Princess Emma was accustomed to living life with soldiers and palace guards around her at all times, but whenever one of the Redguard soldiers crossed her path, she couldn't help but shudder. Their entire order was shrouded in utmost secrecy. It was considered a great honor to be chosen for the task. But the Redguard were silent, sombre, and there was a coldness in their eyes that had always frightened Emma as a child. It frightened her still, though she'd never admit it to anyone else.

Apart from the occasional Redguard soldier crossing her path, Emma led a life of precious little intrigue. She was an only child and while she knew her parents loved her dearly, they kept her under close watch, seemingly obsessed with protecting her from some threat she felt certain could only be in their imagination.

Because nothing ever seemed to happen in the Enchanted Forest.

At least nothing interesting.

And so Emma drummed her fingers lazily on the arm of her gilded throne as she tried very hard to pay attention while her parents gave audience to the peasants and nobles of the kingdom. She knew it was kind of them to allow her to sit with them during these times, to allow her to be seen as an authority figure on a throne rather than a lady of the court, standing dutifully behind them. So she always made a point to smile politely and bow her head with all the kindness and grace befitting a princess whenever someone acknowledged her presence.

But inside, she was screaming: _Will nothing __ever__ happen here?!_

And then, as if some fairy godmother had heard her, the doors to the great hall swung wide open, and the most handsome man she'd ever seen came striding toward them.

His hair was thick and dark, his brow stern, his face tanned and unshaven, and his eyes the brightest blue. Emma could tell he was older she, but not by much. He wore a tan coat with black accents, his crisp white shirt made a stark contrast that drew her eyes to his exposed chest, hair and muscle peeking out from underneath the top of his shirt, which he left hanging a little more open than any courtier would call fashionable. She felt her heart race and sat a little taller on her throne.

"Your majesties," he said, dropping to one knee and bowing, "Please forgive my intrusion. I come bearing news that could not wait another moment to be told."

Emma thought she might die from the delightful trepidation this handsome stranger had so suddenly brought into her life. She waited with bated breath as her father dismissed the entire court and all their subjects, even the palace guards.

"Anton?" She heard her father call the name of her own personal bodyguard, who stopped heading for the door, turned on his heel and bowed to the King.

"My Lord?" The large man replied in his deep, raspy voice.

"You may stay."

"Yes, my Lord," he replied, resuming his post just a little ways from Emma's throne. He gave her a knowing look as he passed by her and she did her best to hide her smile.

Anton was the captain of the Kingsguard, and for as long as Emma could remember, he'd been given charge of her own personal safety. In many ways, he'd been more like an elder brother to her and was her only true friend and confidante. He knew all too well what the arrival of a handsome stranger bearing news would mean to her.

She wasn't surprised that her father had asked him to remain. Just further confirmation of the constant cloud of paranoia in which her parents lived.

Once the hall was otherwise empty, the King granted the messenger permission to speak.

"My Lord," he said, placing his hand over his heart, as if to pledge his allegiance, "My name is Killian Jones, Captain of the Jolly Roger, the fastest ship in your fleet."

The King and Queen nodded graciously, but Emma remained steadfast and immovable.

"Arise, Captain," he said, waving amiably, "Please tell us your urgent news."

Captain Killian Jones stood upright, clasping his hands behind his back.

_Oh my…_ Emma thought, unable to control the rapid beating of her heart as she took thorough note of his build.

"Your majesties, on my most recent journey, I spotted at least a dozen war ships headed at full speed toward the kingdom. They should be here in three days time."

The Queen gasped and placed her hand over her heart, as if to keep it from leaping right out of her chest. King David took her free hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Was there any indication where these ships were coming from?"

"No, my Lord." He paused then, his brow furrowed, clearly unwilling to be the bearer of bad news. "But they were bearing the sigil of the Dark One."

"He's coming." The Queen could hardly conceal the fear now threatening to overtake her.

"Your majesties, I must ask your forgiveness."

"What for?" Emma asked, daring to speak in her parents' stead as her mother and father were clearly occupied with the business of worrying and comforting, respectively. Captain Jones turned to address the Princess, bowing respectfully before responding.

"I abandoned my mission, cargo, and most of my crew in order to return to port as quickly as possible and deliver the news myself, your Grace."

"That hardly seems a transgression."

"Forgive my impudence, your Grace, but it was a very important mission."

"And where was this mission?" Emma asked, forgetting herself, forgetting her place.

"The kingdom of Arendelle," he replied, smiling politely at her before glancing at the King. She was eager for more information, her curiosity piqued by this handsome Captain and his mysterious mission across the sea. But she could tell that this was a man of integrity and discretion - two such traits her family held in highest esteem. She wouldn't dare use her authority to force him to disclose information she knew she would not be privy to. Especially not in front of her parents.

"Your actions were valiant and worthy of reward rather than retribution," she said finally.

Captain Jones raised an eyebrow at her. As did King David.

"Princess Emma is right," the King interjected.

"Thank you, your majesties. But I require no reward other than your pardon for failing to complete my mission."

"Very well. You shall have it. Please join us as our honored guest this evening at sundown. It's not a formal feast, just our family supper, but we would be delighted to receive you and hear more of what you've discovered in your travels."

Emma did her best to hide the sigh of relief that escaped her lips. Her father, ever the diplomat, had saved her from her own lack of propriety and provided a way of seeing this handsome sailor once more. She'd have to thank him for that later.

"Thank you, your majesties. I would be honored." King David waved to dismiss him and Captain Jones bowed once more, stealing a glance at the princess before turning on his heel and exiting just as briskly as he'd entered.

"Emma…" King David began, but was promptly cut off by his overly excited daughter.

"Oh Papa, thank you for inviting him to dine with us," she gushed. "He is so very handsome and we never have guests under 50."

"Emma Grace Swan!" Her mother scolded, "We don't know anything about this man!"

"On the contrary, my dear. I know a great deal about this man," King David replied. Snow White looked at him reproachfully, an eyebrow creeping up her face as if to say _'Do you really want to do this in front of Emma?' _

"Well I should like to know him better," Emma said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"So would I, dearest," the Queen replied, eyeing her husband warily.

"And so we shall," Emma said with a sense of finality, popping up from her seat and curtseying to her parents before hurrying off to her chambers, certain it would take her until sundown to prepare herself for dinner with the handsome stranger.

King David nodded to Anton, dismissing him to resume his duties. Anton bowed before quickly following after Emma.

"Oh, David. How will we ever face this?" The Queen said, only deigning to show the true extent of her worry once they were alone together. The King took her in his arms and held her tight.

"We've known this was coming for a long time, my love. We've done our best to plan and prepare." She sighed and clung tightly to her Prince Charming, closing her eyes and trying desperately to find comfort in his arms. He pulled back to meet her gaze. "Killian is a good man, Snow. He will take good care of Emma."

Hurt and indignation flashed in the Queen's eyes. She had not been properly consulted on this part of the plan.

"Tell me again why we can't just send Anton? We _know_ him. _She_ knows him! And we know he can be _trusted_." Charming shook his head.

"He's too easily recognizable. Everyone in the Kingdom knows he's her bodyguard. Whether he intended to or not, he would lead the Dark One right to her!" David sighed, "Not to mention, while Anton is certainly the biggest and strongest man in the Kingdom, he certainly isn't the fastest. And whoever goes with Emma must be able to run _and_ fight."

Snow White sighed and turned away from him.

"You're right. I just wish we didn't have to do this. I wish we had more time!"

King David gathered his wife in his arms again and just held her close, stroking her hair, and placing a kiss on top of her head.

"So do I, my love," he confessed. And he meant it. He would give anything for just a little more time with their daughter. He sighed and leaned back, cupping Snow's face in his hands.

"We've had nearly twenty-one years to prepare for this. If we aren't ready by now, then we don't deserve her."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Already at work on chapter two. Reviews will make the updates come faster!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all so much for all your favorites and follows, and to Andria for being the first to review! So encouraging.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Upstairs, Emma was blissfully unaware of the danger awaiting her. She had heard the news about the war ships belonging to somebody called the Dark One.

_What an incredibly pretentious thing to call oneself_, she thought.

But many armies had come against them before and none had ever breached the castle walls.

She couldn't understand why her mother was so concerned about the ships when clearly her father wasn't.

"Anton?" She called.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Will you call for Ruby, please? I should like to bathe before supper tonight." She said as she stood in front of her mirror, holding up one dress and then another.

"Eager to impress that young Captain, are we?" He teased.

"That's terribly presumptuous of you, Anton," she scolded. He bowed.

"My humblest apologies, your grace." She smiled. She could never be angry with him. She threw another two dresses on top of the growing pile on her bed and let out a sigh of exasperation. "If I may…" he began, on his way out the door. She turned to look at him, eyes full of hope. "I'd recommend the red dress, my lady."

"The red one? But that's far too formal for supper."

"A private supper with the royal family? Is there any occasion more formal than that?" He asked, chuckling at her. "Besides, it's your best color. If it isn't too presumptuous of me to say so, your grace." She smiled.

"Certainly not, Anton. Thank you." He smiled and bowed, taking his leave.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma bounced impatiently as her maidservant Ruby was just putting the finishing touches on her hair. She'd chosen her simplest tiara so as not to make the Captain feel she was above his station. Of course by traditional customs, she couldn't have been more above his station, but being that her mother, the crowned Princess of the realm had married a shepherd boy, Emma had never been concerned about such things. But she could tell he was definitely the kind of man that would be. Ergo, the understated tiara.

For some reason, her parents had never allowed her to have any suitors. They'd never offered her any kind of explanation, but she assumed they were just waiting for the right time.

After all, her twenty-first birthday was only a few days away.

She was glad they hadn't married her off as a teenager like so many other Princesses she knew. Although, in truth, Emma had spent no small amount of time wondering how different her life would be if they had.

_At least it would have been more interesting than living here, _she thought.

But then again, her parents always were a little unconventional.

While other Princesses her age were spending countless hours with a governess, memorizing the Kings and Queens of old and the names, land, and titles of all the current nobles in their realm- Emma was with her Father, learning how to hunt and fight with all sorts of weapons.

"_Even a princess should know how to protect herself and her Kingdom." _He'd said.

And from her mother, Emma learned basic survival skills - how to forage and find shelter, where to find clean water, how to hide if she was ever exiled, and how to identify all the flora and fauna in the realm. Emma rolled her eyes. She loved her mother dearly, but she could be so paranoid.

_I suppose having your kingdom stolen and being forced to live in exile will do that to you. _

The only thing about Princess Emma's education that was like that of the other girls of her age and rank was diplomacy. Her father insisted on that above all else.

"_You are royalty, Emma. And as royalty, you are born to privilege and power and responsibility. But you are also at the mercy of your subjects. A princess must be able to command and keep the hearts of her people. Because there will come a day when your mother and I will not be there to guide and protect you. And when your enemies rise against you, your survival will depend upon your ability to engender loyalty; to make alliances and keep them."_

In truth, diplomacy was the most difficult part of Princess lessons. Unlike her parents, Emma was not a natural born diplomat. In fact, Emma was a natural born human lie detector. She had a curiously strong sense of intuition and had learned to trust her gut over the years. Her Father encouraged this practice. Her mother urged caution.

The problem was not so much Emma's natural intuition, but rather what became of her decision to act upon it. Emma had been raised to follow her heart, which often led her to say things she didn't mean or act on feeling rather than logic. She was a passionate soul, a free spirit. But there have been many free-spirited Queens to lose their heads. And because Emma did not want to be one of them, she tried very hard to heed the words of her parents.

At this particular moment, Emma knew she couldn't simply trust her heart because she could hear it whispering the most nonsensical things.

_Perhaps he'll ask for my hand, _she thought as she admired the way Ruby had swept her hair into the most elegant bun, but left her bangs to swoop across her forehead and a few tendrils to frame her face and draw attention to her long, slender neck.

_Such foolishness,_ she scolded herself for even entertaining the idea. _Honorable, decent men don't propose to women they've just met. Mother and Father wouldn't hear of it._

As Ruby helped her into the red dress, Emma's heart continued whispering to her and she continued chastising it.

_Father said he knew him, maybe we've been secretly betrothed for years and they never told me. _

_Nonsense. Father and Mother would never keep such secrets. _

Emma felt the bodice of her dress growing ever tighter and watched in the mirror as her already slender figure grew smaller. She tilted her head to one side as she admired the way the dress looked on her. Anton was right. This was her best color. And while she'd scolded him for teasing her, she was in fact very eager to make a particular sort of impression on Killian Jones.

_And this is definitely the dress to do that in, _Her heart whispered.

_He won't know what hit him, _her head agreed.

"Don't hold back, Ruby," she said, placing a hand on her stomach to steady herself as her maid laced the corset tighter.

Because tonight, Emma Swan was definitely going to make an impression.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: I know, this is a shorter one and mainly backstory rather than plot advancement, but foundations must be laid. And I promise big things are in the works for Killian and the Charmings. Please remember to review! Your encouragement and affirmation only drives me to turn out and post chapters faster.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Double update in one day! Seriously, all these follows and favorites just made my day. Besides, I want to finish up all this exposition to get to the good stuff. And I know you do too.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Captain Killian Jones stared out the palace window at the sea, watching the sun dip below the horizon, casting pink-orange light on the buildings and illuminating the trees with gold. He did his best to muster his confidence.

He had met with the King in secret more times than he could count over the last six years; each of them always in a different disguise and never in the same location. He'd been forbidden from discussing their meetings with a single soul. It had been made very clear that if he'd done so, he would be immediately tried and found guilty of highest treason.

King David could not have chosen a better man for the task.

Loyalty and discretion were the pillars upon which Killian Jones had built his life. More than that, he was a fierce opponent in battle. Quick and sly as a fox and uncommonly strong. He was resourceful, skilled with a sword, and well trained in the art of evasion. He'd grown up an orphan, raised by his brother, Liam, who was only a few years older than he.

Killian was only eleven years old when Liam died. And for a while, in his anger and grief, he turned to thievery as a means of survival. But he was soon caught and stood trial before the King. When his story was told in full - not by Killian, of course - the King felt such compassion for him that he chose a rather unusual sentence. Instead of being sent to jail, Killian was sent to sea. He was to labor as cabin boy to the most decorated admiral in the Royal Navy.

It was there that Killian learned to be a man of integrity and virtue, and there his arms grew strong and he learned to fight. Through hard work and perseverance, he continued to rise and rise in rank and station until at last, he'd been made Captain of the Jolly Roger - the fastest ship in all the realm. And it was that very day six years ago that the King approached him.

All this time, he'd been preparing. Ferrying messages to and from nearby kingdoms. Even pretending to be a pirate on a commandeered ship to spy on the King's enemies and gain information about the Dark One and his plans.

Now here he was, inside the palace, dressed in his finest livery, waiting to dine with the royal family. It all seemed so surreal, so impossible that a boy from an outlying village with no family and terrible past could be the King's right hand man. But so it was.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the voice of the King himself calling his name.

"Killian," he said with a warm smile, opening his arms for an embrace. Killian obliged, although confused by the gesture. "May I introduce you to my wife?"

_Ah, that must be it. A show of confidence,_ he thought. He smiled at the Queen, taking her hand and bowing low before her.

"Your majesty," he said, his voice soft and reverent. As he met her eyes, they seemed cold and calculating. But rather than backing away, he held her gaze, as if to grant her permission to search his soul.

Snow White did just that as she looked intently into those crystal blue orbs. There was fierce determination, for sure, but also a certain softness she couldn't quite place. It was the combination of the two polar opposites that made her warm to him. Any companion for Emma would need both.

"We are so glad you could join us, Captain Jones," she said finally. He kissed her hand and stood upright.

"It is an honor to be invited."

"Shall we go in?" The King asked, leading them into the dining hall where a vast spread had been laid out on a long table that Killian found not quite as long as he might have expected for the royal family. But they had always seemed far more concerned with practicality than pomp and circumstance and Killian admired them for that.

The King and Queen took their seats at the head and foot and were helped into their chairs by servants who were waiting nearby. Killian chose the seat at the left hand of the King, leaving the right for his daughter, who had yet to appear.

"Is her majesty the Princess not joining us this evening?" Killian asked, a hint of concern in his tone. King David smiled.

"Ah yes. I'm afraid you'll find that the Princess has quite a propensity for dawdling."

Killian smiled and lowered his eyes. The servants had just begun serving the first course and pouring the wine when Princess Emma came rushing a bit too quickly into the room from the back entrance. She remembered herself and slowed her pace as soon as she saw the Captain sitting at the table with her parents.

"Forgive me, Papa!" She cried a bit breathlessly, then regained her composure and added, "And Lady Mother and Captain Jones, of course. I failed to notice the time."

Captain Kilian Jones was dumbstruck, just for a moment, at the sight of Princess Emma in her bright red dress. Then he shot up like a rocket, slightly bumping the table as he came to standing, trying his best to remember dinner etiquette for a lady of her station.

"It's quite alright, my love. You are not terribly late," the King said jovially as he gave her a once over, amused at how she'd clearly overdressed for the occasion. Although he suspected it was quite on purpose. "You remember Killian Jones," he said, gesturing to the tall, dark, and handsome stranger as Emma had grown fond of calling him in her head.

"Of course," she replied, curtseying, "Captain."

"My lady," he replied, bowing low. She gave him her very best Mona Lisa Smile as she took her seat. He straightened his jacket before following suit.

_My God. She's stunning. _He thought. He took a moment to admire her properly as she sat across the table from him, smiling demurely. He then quickly banished the thought, remembering how the Queen seemed determined to get the measure of him. How could she trust a man who couldn't take his eyes off her daughter?

In truth, the fact that Killian was so visibly affected by the sight of Emma in that particular dress (which she had obviously had laced as tight as it would possibly go) made the Queen trust him more than she would have if he'd sat there unaffected. She knew her daughter was breathtakingly beautiful and she'd watched almost every man who'd had an audience with the Princess notice her beauty as well. Any man who pretended not to notice was a liar.

Killian willed his hand to stop shaking as he reached for his goblet and quickly drained it of wine. He pretended not to notice the cup bearer's raised eyebrow as he refilled the glass.

"So. Captain Jones. Tell us how you've come to such a high rank at such a young age?" Snow White asked, sipping the wine from her own goblet.

"Not so very young, I'm afraid," he replied, smiling.

"Nonsense. You can't be much more than twenty," she replied, starting on the soup before her.

"I am twenty-eight," he replied, "I entered His Majesty's Service when I was very young. I was a cabin boy to the Admiral Blackbeard."

"The pirate?!" Emma gasped. The Queen gave her daughter a reproachful glare and Emma cleared her throat and lowered her voice to an acceptable tone. "I do believe I've read stories about him."

"Then you'll know he wasn't always a pirate. Certainly not while I sailed with him. The man I knew was a loyal and faithful servant to His Majesty the King. Never did anything untoward," Killian replied. In truth, he had a certain fondness for Admiral Blackbeard. He was the one to teach him good form, to invest in the development of Killian's character. Whatever turned Blackbeard from the man of integrity that he knew happened long after Killian had moved on to another company.

"He was the most decorated admiral in the history of our Kingdom, was he not?" Snow White asked, taking another sip of wine.

"Indeed he was, your Majesty," Killian replied as he took another spoonful of soup.

"Will you tell us about Arendelle, Captain? I've never been there before and I'm overwhelmed with curiosity," Emma asked, finishing off her soup.

"Perhaps we shouldn't bombard the Captain with questions," King David interjected before Killian could respond, "He won't be able to enjoy his dinner." Killian smiled politely and looked at Emma, who seemed much chastened.

He felt sorry for her. He also felt a little foolish feeling sorry for a Princess, but he couldn't help it. This beautiful young woman had been essentially locked away in a tower for her entire life and she was clearly not the sort of woman who was suited for that. Not surprising, since both of her parents were swashbuckling heroes in their own right. Naturally, she was curious about the outside world, but her circumstances demanded that all such curiosity be discouraged.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to comfort her with some innocuous detail about the city itself, a large armor-clad man came bursting through the door, clutching a wound in his side that was gushing blood.

"Your majesties! It's him! The Dark One has arrived and even now storms the castle!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Please review! I try to keep my chapters under 2K words, but sometimes that means the story doesn't get very far. Let me know if you'd rather have longer chapters with more content and be updated less frequently or frequent updates with shorter chapters. Thanks! :)


	4. Chapter 4

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Your majesties! It's him! The Dark One has arrived and even now storms the castle!"

King David and Killian's eyes met immediately.

"Impossible!" Killian hissed, "The Jolly Roger is the fastest ship on the seven seas. There's no way he could have caught up so quickly."

"No matter," King David replied, "We must act now."

Killian nodded, standing up quickly and unsheathing his sword before rounding the table toward the Princess and taking her hand.

"We must leave at once if we're to escape unnoticed."

"_What_?!" She asked, throwing his hand away, "I'm not going anywhere! This is my home!"

The King and Queen rushed to their daughter and held her tight.

"Darling, you must go. I'm sorry there's no time to explain, but Killian will tell you everything once you're safe."

"Aren't you coming with us?" She asked, eyes wide and tears threatening to fall.

"We can't," Snow White said, her voice breaking, barely able to get the words out.

"Trust Killian. Trust your instincts. Trust your heart," her father urged, kissing her face.

"We love you," her mother wept, squeezing her tight.

"I love you!" Emma said, her throat constricting, "Both of you. I can't-"

"Emma, you must go! Now!" Her father raised his voice. He _never_ raised his voice.

"Come, love," came the sound of Killian's soft lilting voice in her ear.

She let him lead her out of the dining hall and down a secret passage she'd never seen before. It led to a hallway Emma thought must be the servant's quarters. He grabbed a torch and began to lead them through when the sound of heavy, fast-moving footsteps grew louder from behind them. Killian placed the torch in a sconce on the wall and pulled her quickly through a nearby door, shutting it nearly all the way and motioning for her to be quiet. She held her breath, tears streaming down her face.

_**BOOM! **_

The entire castle shook and Emma bit her lip hard to keep from screaming. Killian wrapped his arm around her in an effort to offer what little comfort he could while listening for the troop of soldiers to pass them by.

They were undetected.

Killian stuck his head out the door once the corridor fell silent and as soon as the way was clear, he hurried her through the hall and down a dark staircase. She tugged on his arm.

"Wait!" She whispered. He tugged even harder to get her to follow him. She dug her heels into the ground. "The Evil Queen is down there!"

"She's imprisoned," Killian reminded her.

"But she'll see us!" Emma hissed.

Another troop of soldiers was fast approaching.

"There's no time," he said, urging her onward.

Emma shuddered at the thought of passing the Redguard. She'd never come across one that was actually on duty guarding the Evil Queen, only seen them in passing at the changing of the guard. She wondered if they'd try to stop them from escaping.

_**BOOM! BOOM!**_

The castle shook again. There was no doubt they were under siege now.

"What is happening out there?!" They heard a woman's voice shout angrily. "You useless fools! Don't you realize your precious kingdom is under attack?!"

Emma's blood ran cold when she heard the voice of the Evil Queen. Killian seemed unphased, just kept pulling her along.

They reached an opening, a wide alcove of sorts, where two Redguard soldiers stood fast, seemingly unaware of the attack. They stared blankly ahead with their cold, empty eyes and ignored the Evil Queen's shouting and canon fire alike. Then, as if that wasn't frightening enough, the Evil Queen spied Emma through the bars of her prison; hard to miss in that bright red dress. She saw the fear in the young girl's eyes, threw her head back, and laughed. It was the most maniacal sound Emma had ever heard.

Once Killian was sure the Redguard would make no move to stop them, he hurried her through the alcove to a door marked with the symbol of the Redguard- a diamond with an eye in the center.

By this time, Emma knew better than to protest. She simply followed Killian through countless corridors and doorways deep beneath the castle.

At last, they reached the end of a very dark tunnel. It seemed to Emma like a dead end. But Killian knew better. He jumped and caught hold of something Emma could not see. With some effort and the dull shriek of rusted metal grinding against itself, a kind of door swung open from the ceiling, dropping a cloud of dust, a dead animal, and finally Killian at her feet.

"You'll have to climb," He said. She nodded as he knelt down and made himself a foothold for her. She stepped onto his knee and reached up, flailing her arms to try to reach the first metal bar of many that led straight up a very long tunnel she could now see by the pale moonlight shining from above.

"I can't reach it," she said, straining. He wasted no time on pleasantries. He simply grabbed her waist firmly in his hands and stood up, pushing her straight up over his head. She caught hold of the first bar and began struggling to reach the next. They were so far apart. She knew she could manage them once she got a proper foothold, but she just didn't have the upper body strength to pull herself up that high.

Killian quickly discerned the problem.

"Forgive me, Princess," he said, grabbing her thighs with both hands and pushing her up even higher. She gasped at the contact and marveled at his strength, but the sound of shouting soldiers reminded her that this was not a time for propriety. She made her way up the rudimentary ladder. Once she'd cleared the first five bars, Killian quickly scrambled up after her, pulling the door shut behind him and sliding the thick metal latch into place with his boot.

Once she'd reached the top, Emma found herself on a cliff overlooking the sea and the castle she'd grown up in. She was horrified by what she saw. The castle was burning, crumbling. The port was flooded with enemy ships and cannon fire. The walls had been breached.

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and she covered her mouth in horror as she watched her childhood home go up in flames. She could even hear the sound of soldiers screaming their fearsome battle cries. Killian gave her a moment's peace to see what she needed to see and grieve, then took her hand again.

"My lady, we cannot linger," he urged, softly. She nodded, sniffling, and held his hand tightly, following him through the darkness.

They came to a small, abandoned cottage in the woods. There was hardly anything left of the place. Killian ushered her inside and watched for a good ten seconds to make sure they had not been seen before following after her.

"We can't stay more than a moment," he warned her, dropping to his knees and removing a stone from the hearth. His arm slid easily inside all the way up to the shoulder and he drew out what looked to Emma like some clothes and weapons and food. Clearly, this plan had been in place for a long time.

"Put this on over your dress," He said, tossing her a heavy brown hooded cloak. She obeyed, not bothering to even shake out the dust. He donned something similar. He then handed her a small dagger which she tucked into her breast, her gown allowing no other place to keep it. She'd begun to regret wearing the satin ball gown to dinner the very moment they started running and she hadn't stopped since. He tossed her a belt, which she struggled to fasten around herself.

"What's wrong?"

"This dress!" She cursed under her breath. Killian wasted no time. He drew his dagger and slit a hole right down the middle of the thick layers of red satin and tulle, then pulled hard. Emma gasped as it tore easily in his hands and he ripped it away from her body, leaving her with only her white petticoat under the red satin bodice.

"Apologies, my lady," he said, handing her an elegant rapier.

She didn't say a word - honestly, what could she have said?

She simply sheathed the sword on her belt, now secured low on her waist.

He tucked the rest of the weapons and food into his pockets and said, "We'll eat later. We must leave now." Emma nodded, heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

And so they continued, running through the forest like thieves in the night.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I woke up to two new reviews this morning. They made me so happy, I had to post a new chapter immediately! You guys rock!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was nearly dawn when Emma finally collapsed from sheer exhaustion. They'd been running for hours and she couldn't breathe. Killian rushed to her side.

"My lady!" He whispered, shaking her gently, trying his best to see if she'd hit her head when she fell, but it was still too dark to know for certain.

"Lady Emma!" He tried again, gently tapping her face with his hand.

But he could not rouse her.

He laid his head against her breast to check her vital signs. Her heartbeat was slowing and she wasn't breathing. It wasn't till he held her just so that he realised the bodice of her dress was laced up the back and very _tightly_. He'd heard stories of ladies collapsing from wearing their corsets too tight. He was astonished that Emma had made it this long. Wasting no time, he leaned her forward, drew his knife and sliced the thick satin ribbon which held shut the bodice of her dress.

First, he felt her body relax in his arms.

Then, she bolted upright, gasping for air.

"It's alright, my lady," he said, rubbing her back reassuringly, "You're alright."

"Stupid dress," she said, cursing as she began to try to work the top half off. Modesty be damned. She'd rather be wearing nothing but her undergarments if they had to keep running like this. Killian captured her hands in his.

"You mustn't leave it here. We don't want to leave a trail of fine red satin for the Dark One to follow."

_Smart,_ She thought. Any concerns Emma had about following this man out of the castle had by now been proven null and void. She'd never known a more capable man. He was quick and brave and strong and careful and sharp as a tack. She had no doubt now that her father had chosen the right man for the task. Her mind was swimming with a thousand questions, but she could sense that now was not the time.

"Our next stop is nearby. Once we arrive, we'll both change. Can you manage to go a little farther as you are?" She nodded and he helped her to her feet.

For the first time since they'd crawled out of that long, dark tunnel, Emma took stock of her surroundings. The terrain was different here. They must be in the foothills of the mountains that surrounded the castle. But that was miles away. She could hardly believe they'd covered so much ground overnight.

"It's here," he said, ducking behind a giant rock that looked like the back of an ogre crouching by the side of a hill. He cleared some brush away from the base and then disappeared in a deep hole in the ground.

"Killian!" She cried, keeping her voice hushed. His head popped out of the ground.

"Come along, Swan!" She couldn't help but smile at the nickname he'd used. She wondered how he knew about it.

_My father must have told him,_ She thought as she made her way over to the hole in the ground that Killian was now dropping back into. She approached it tentatively and peered down inside. It was quite deep. He was standing at the bottom, waiting for her. "Probably best to sit on the edge and slide down," he said, "I'll be here to catch you." She glowered at him.

"You must think I'm the sort of princess that can't even get into a carriage by herself," she said, looking down at him with her hands on her hips.

"I don't mean to be rude, your Majesty, but it is rather important that you get out of plain sight as quickly as possible." She narrowed her eyes and began her descent into the deep hole in the ground. "And I don't think that at all. You've already proven your strength many times over," he said, watching carefully as she slid herself forward. He caught her by the waist as she dropped to the ground floor.

_Oh my…_ she thought, looking up at him, his face mere inches from hers. While Anton and her father had helped her safely dismount her horse in just this way, it had never felt like this before.

Truthfully, he had held her there a few moments too long. But she was just so beautiful and he felt so drawn to her.

_But she's a princess. And I'm only her protector, _He reminded himself. He gave her the most reassuring smile he could muster and let go, turning around and taking a few steps away from her to find the torch he knew was waiting for him in a basket on the floor. He drew the flint from his pocket and lit the flame. He made it look so effortless, though Emma knew it was anything but, thanks to her rather unconventional princess lessons with her mother.

_Have they been secretly preparing me for this? All this time?_ The thought struck her like a bolt of lightning.

"This way, your Highness," he said, leading her through yet another underground tunnel.

She followed him in silence, her mind reeling with too many questions. After turning a few corners, they reached a small L-shaped room. Killian handed her the torch and began digging in the dirt with his knife at the very back of the room.

"What are you looking for?" She asked.

"A chest," he answered, "I buried it here several months ago."

_Several months?_ Emma thought, wringing her hands, _So they have been planning._

His reply only incited more questions and his silence was maddening. She dropped to her knees beside him, drew her own dagger, and began to help him dig.

"I expect you have a lot of questions, your Majesty."

"You shouldn't call me that," she corrected. He raised an eyebrow at her. "I mean, if I'm supposed to be in hiding, you shouldn't address me like that. It will draw too much attention if anyone hears you."

"You're right," He replied, a little stunned that in all his meticulous planning with the King, neither of them had ever thought of that. "What shall I call you then?" He asked, smiling at her as he continued digging, unable to hide his surprise and amusement that the crowned princess would condescend to dig in the dirt with a knife beside him.

She had to admit, despite the horrific ordeal she had just endured, there was something in the way Captain Jones looked at her that set her at ease and warmed her from within. And while there were many burning questions she was eager for him to answer, she was also afraid of what those answers might be. On the other hand, their playful banter was easy; enjoyable even. She was beginning to get the feeling that there would be all the time in the world for her to ask him questions and process his answers. She could wait a little longer.

"Swan will do," she replied, deciding that his nickname for her was as good as any.

"Isn't that a bit too obvious?" He asked, enjoying the way their arms would periodically brush against each other as they worked side by side.

"I should think not. It's a sort of secret nickname my father has for me." He stole a glance at her, admiring her long and slender shape.

"It suits." She burst out laughing.

"Hardly! He only calls me that to tease me. I've always been a bit clumsy and awkward, always saying the wrong things. I assure you, on closer acquaintance, I'm far more like the Ugly Duckling than the Swan Princess."

Killian stopped digging. For a moment he contemplated telling her just how breathtaking she really was. How he'd only just met her a few hours ago and already found her the strongest and most brilliant woman he'd ever met. And then he remembered himself, remembered his station, and how he'd sworn to protect her from every danger so long as he drew breath.

Killian knew that to become romantically involved with this woman would be tantamount to breaking that oath. He'd be putting her at risk and thus breaking the vow he made to the King. And Killian despised all men who broke promises. He would never be one. He must remain focused on his mission.

He resumed his digging and simply replied,

"My Lady, no one in their right mind would call you an ugly duckling."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Inside the chest they'd finally unearthed were bedrolls and pillows and a full set of clothes for each of them.

For Killian, there was an outfit almost entirely comprised of black leather. Black leather pants, black leather boots, and a black leather overcoat. There was also a double breasted vest of red silk brocade with brass buttons, a black linen shirt with a wide collar and a deep hood, and a pair of unmistakable bright red wool socks. She laughed out loud when she saw them. Her mother had insisted on teaching her to knit. The socks had been her latest project, but they'd turned out too big for anyone in her family. Although they seemed to suit Killian just fine.

For Emma, there was a pair of brown leather boots, a white chemise, a brown and gold silk brocade bodice and a full, dark green skirt. There was also a long green hooded cloak for her. It seemed like some sort of tiered linen, but it looked very old. It seemed better suited for running in warm weather than the heavy brown one Killian had given her in the abandoned cottage. But she could see the virtue of both and it couldn't hurt to have a spare. She asked Kilian if she could keep it and he stuffed it obligingly in his haversack.

"Best to change now, in case we have to leave suddenly. Wouldn't want our clothes to give us away if anyone saw us fleeing the castle together." Emma stood there unmoving, looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat. "I'll be just around the corner."

As she wormed her way out of what was left of her ruined red dress, she gained the nerve to ask the first question.

"Your mission to Arendelle- did it concern me?"

"Aye," he replied, unfastening the buttons of his white shirt and black vest. He could tell she was feeling anxious and so he decided to answer only the questions she asked, freely giving whatever information she required, hoping that way he could avoid overwhelming her. He knew she was strong, that much was apparent when she'd managed to press on in spite of the very real fear in her eyes as they made their escape from the castle. But everyone has their limits.

"And my Father sent you?" She asked, removing the last of her ruined clothes and lifting the fresh white chemise over her head.

"He sent me on many missions concerning your safety. That was just one of them."

"So he'd been expecting the Dark One to attack?"

"Aye…" Kilian trailed off. He did his best to hasten the removal of his courtly livery, knowing it would take some effort to get those leather pants on his legs that were covered in sweat from running.

"F-for how long?" Emma stuttered, biting her lip as she pulled on the emerald skirt over her dirty white petticoat. Killian sighed.

"Your parents made a deal with the Dark One twenty-five years ago. Twenty-five years of peace and prosperity in the Kingdom and protection from the Evil Queen." Emma's silence made him work even faster to finish dressing himself.

_No one should have to learn truths like these alone in an underground cave. _

"And the price?" she asked, tugging the laces of her bodice into place, squeezing her eyes shut. So afraid to hear the truth she'd already guessed in her heart.

"The price was their firstborn child."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I love cliffhangers. Apparently you do too. To the guest who left an anonymous review (which I can't respond to in PM form or I would) - I'd like to remind us that it is in fact very plausible that both Snow and Charming would agree to give up their firstborn child in order to save the entire kingdom from the Evil Queen's curse. Remember how they did that in season one? Different terms, but same deal. Ok enough of that. Enjoy everybody!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"The price was their firstborn child."

Emma felt sick to her stomach. The room was spinning and the words kept ringing in her ears.

_They traded me. They traded their own daughter to a monster. _

Killian heard the breath catch in her throat. He remembered they still hadn't eaten anything and feared she might swoon again. He hurried around the corner, hoping she was decent, forgetting that he wasn't, and took her in his arms, thinking of nothing other than the pain this young woman must be suffering and willing to do anything to ease her burden.

"Forgive me, Princess, I should have chosen my words more carefully. I-" he struggled to find the right combination of words to comfort her, but they wouldn't come. So he simply held her as she reeled from the unthinkable truth of her circumstances.

After a long while of standing there in silence, she mustered the courage to hear more.

"Was it their plan to spirit me away with a handsome stranger all along?"

"As I understand it, their plan was to have no children," Killian replied, guiding her toward the chest on the floor. He kicked the lid shut and sat down with her on it, keeping his arm around her for support. It seemed less intimate and more friendly than the embrace they had been sharing before.

_Intimacy is not an option_, he reminded himself. No matter how much he may desire it.

"But your parents are very much in love," he said, hoping to remind her of the familial happiness and love she'd always known, "The pregnancy was bound to happen eventually. And so it did. When you were born, the Dark One came to your parents and promised he'd return for you on your twenty-first birthday."

"But that isn't for another three days," she interjected. Killian shrugged.

"He isn't known for his truthfulness." Emma nodded and Killian continued, "Your parents have spent the last twenty years trying to prepare you for this day. Your father himself enlisted my help six years ago when he made me Captain of the Jolly Roger. We've been meeting in secret ever since, planning your escape, preparing for the worst, hoping for the best."

Tears rolled down Emma's cheeks but she could hardly feel them. She could hardly feel anything but a dull ache in her chest. She felt numb. She knew there must be more that he could tell her, but she couldn't bear to hear another word. At least not now.

Killian placed his hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze.

"Your parents love you, Emma. Since I was just a boy, your father has been watching from a distance as other men have trained me to be the one to keep you safe. I swore to protect you. And I always keep my word."

Emma looked down at her hand enclosed in his. The skin was tan and rough and weather-beaten; so unlike her own, which was pale and smooth as alabaster. If what he said was true, and Emma had no reason to believe it wasn't, then she was now following the plan her parents had been anxiously toiling to put in place for the last _twenty years_.

It all made sense now. The survival skills, the lessons in hunting and fighting, the obsession with her ability to win the hearts and minds of her people, the constant preparation for the worst, even the ridiculous paranoia and over-protectiveness.

All of it was for her good. And all of it was love.

Moreover, Emma knew her father. She knew the kind of man he was, knew his standards. If he had truly hand-picked Killian Jones to be her protector, then she knew this was a man she could trust with her whole self.

He lifted her chin gently with his fingers. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze.

"No matter what happens, Swan, I swear I will never leave you or forsake you. We will get through this together."

It was an odd sort of oath, but it struck a chord somewhere deep within her. Emma concentrated all her powers of intuition and searched his bright blue eyes. She found no lie in them.

"Promise?" She asked, her voice no louder than a whisper.

"Promise."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning, Killian packed everything they couldn't carry in the chest and buried it again. He told Emma they were heading to the Maritime Kingdom, where his first mate, a man called Mr. Smee, had been ordered to sail the Jolly Roger, by way of Arendelle.

It was a ruse of course. Smee knew nothing of the princess or of Killian's secret meetings with the King. For all intents and purposes, Smee was sailing back to Arendelle to pick up the crew and cargo the Captain had left behind and complete the delivery of cargo to the Maritime Kingdom. Smee believed he would then sail the ship back to meet the Captain at the Royal Palace.

Or at least that was the plan before the Dark One had attacked.

Killian hoped against hope that Smee had escaped with the Jolly Roger in time.

He also hoped that he and Emma could make it to the Maritime Kingdom before his crew.

He'd worked it all out in his head the night before. It could be done, but they would have to be fast. Once aboard the Jolly Roger, Killian knew they would be safe. After all, she was the fastest ship on the seven seas, and he was her Captain.

With the Jolly, they could weather any storm, travel anywhere they wished. Killian allowed himself, only for a moment, to imagine sailing the world with Princess Emma. Many strange and glittering shores awaited them, he at the helm and she by his side.

_Perhaps wearing a red satin dress. _

"Ready?" She asked. Her voice brought him out of his day dream. He cleared his throat, slinging the strap of his haversack over his shoulder.

"Aye," He replied, leading her out of the cavern.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Back at the Royal Palace, Snow White and her Prince Charming were suspended from chains hanging from the rafters in the Great Hall - one of the few rooms in the castle which had survived the attack virtually unscathed. The Dark One, Rumplestiltskin, was circling them like a predator stalking its prey, contemplating the best angle to go in for the kill.

"I just don't understand," he said, folding his hands and tittering cheerfully, "We made a deal. I was very generous. I stopped the curse, defeated the Evil Queen, I built the prison that holds her still. And gave you twenty-five years of happily ever after." He rounded on them, leaning his golden, scaly face ever closer to the King. "And even after your precious baby girl was born, I didn't take her right away." He stood upright and continued circling them, "No! I'm a generous man. Your precious little princess Emma. I let you raise her as your own. Even though SHE WAS MINE!" He screeched, right in the Queen's face.

Snow White flinched, but only for a moment. She set her face like stone and glared right back in his beady, reptilian eyes.

"She is not yours."

"Oh-ho-ho! I beg to differ, dearie! I have contract right here with your name on it that says otherwise," he said, making a scroll appear out of nowhere with a flourish of his wrist. With a second, it unrolled itself, exposing the many terms and conditions in the finest print and the two signatures at the bottom of the page.

"You'll never find her," David said, hoping to draw the Dark One's attention away from his wife, at least for a while.

"Ahh, but you see, this contract is not only legally binding, it's _magically_ binding."

Rumplestiltskin snapped his fingers and the contract disappeared.

"What do you mean?" Snow White asked, unable to fully conceal the alarm in her voice. He let out an even higher pitched fit of tittling laughter at that.

"Cannot hide, can't break free. A few days more and you shall see!" He crooned softly in his eerie little sing-song voice.

Snow White was thoroughly unnerved. She could no longer hide it. Lucky for her, that was exactly the reaction Rumplestiltskin was hoping for. Satisfied with his work, he turned on his heel and headed for the door. But just before slipping out, he peeked his head back inside and said coolly, without rhyme or affectation,

"I will find her, you know."

Snow White and her Prince Charming could no longer conceal the despair they felt creeping into their hearts and settling there. The Dark One grinned as he exited the room, slamming the door behind him and setting the bar to lock them in with a wave of his gilded hand.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: I hope you're all enjoying these rapid updates. Lucky for you my husband's been out of town and once my little one is asleep, I have the evenings to write and write and write. Perhaps they'll slow down now that he's back. But for now, I'm just gonna ride this train of prolificity. Thanks for riding with me! :)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: You guys just make my whole day with your lovely reviews. Thank you for your kindness and enthusiastic support! 3

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

By mid-day, Emma and Killian had covered nearly twenty miles of difficult terrain. The foothills of the mountains consisted mainly of long, sloping valleys and rolling hills, and grew rocky near the peaks.

They're deep enough in the forest that there's almost constant tree cover and plenty of places to hide if they came across any other travelers. Although the path Killian has chosen for them is so far from the road, she's not completely sure how he's navigating.

It's hot. The combination of Emma's heavy brown cloak and the sweltering summer sun beating down on the trees above makes the air feel thick and stifling.

"Killian, please," Emma begs, "I need to rest. Just for a moment."

"Very well, my lady," He obliges, observing their surroundings. He leads her over to a giant oak tree with many branches dipping low enough to provide both shelter from prying eyes and a place to sit.

Emma does just that and lets out a sigh of relief, taking off her heavy brown cloak and laying it beside her. Killian reaches into his haversack and hands her his leather waterskin. She thanks him as she takes a long, refreshing draught, splashing a small amount on her hands to wash her face before handing it back to him. He watches her dry her face on her sleeve as he takes a drink and wonders at how easily she's taken to this new life. She catches him staring and smiles.

"What now?"

"Nothing," he replies, shrugging.

"You've never seen a princess wipe her face on her sleeve?" She teases. He laughs, leaning back and pouring the rest of the water right on his face and top of his head. He scrubs his face with his hands and runs them through his dampened hair and lets the warm air dry him, since his sleeves are not readily accessible; stuck under far too many layers of leather. Emma lets her eyes and mind wander as the droplets roll down his neck and chest and disappear under his shirt.

"Indeed, I have not," he replies, peeling off his overcoat and laying it on a branch beside hers. He takes off his vest as well and for a moment, contemplates removing his shirt altogether. It's the way Emma is looking at him, an expectant eyebrow creeping up her forehead and a smirk playing about her lips, that makes him decide against it. Although some part of him can't help but enjoy the way she watches him.

"There's a small town just over the next hill with access to a mountain stream," he says, fishing an apple out of his haversack and tossing it to her. She catches it easily and he wonders if there's anything she can't do.

"Sounds lovely," Emma says, taking an absurdly large bite of apple.

"Aye. If all goes well, we can find something to eat, replenish our supplies, and be on our way."

"And if all doesn't go well?" She asks, leaning back against the tree. Killian inspects the branch he's chosen. It's long and curved, a little higher off the ground and not as thick as Emma's, but the shape looks too inviting not to try.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, love." He replied, pushing himself up and onto the limb, testing to see if it could hold his weight. Pleased with its strength, he laid back and let the curve of the branch support the length of his body, tucking his overcoat under his head for a pillow.

His eyes were closed, chest heaving. She decided to take advantage of this opportunity to observe him as he lounged lazily in the branch beside hers.

_He must be struggling as much as I am in this heat,_ she thought. _Although he's shown no sign of it till now. _She was actually thankful to see he had limits. She'd begun to think he had none. Emma had always comforted herself with the adage that nobody was perfect. The last twenty-four hours had made her suspicious of such logic.

He was _physically_ perfect, in Emma's eyes at least. She blushed as she found herself taking advantage of his need for rest to thoroughly ogle him. She knew she shouldn't, but she just couldn't help herself. It was as if his broad shoulders and chiseled arms were calling to her.

_Stop it_, _Emma_._ Think!_ Her head chided.

_But he's sooooo handsome_! Her heart swooned.

_He __is__ handsome. But he's also much older than you. And he's probably made some kind of vow to Father to protect your virtue. He's no more interest in you than a Redguard. _

Her heart could not argue with such sound logic. Overprotective as her parents were, there was no way they'd send her into the woods with a handsome man without putting some kind of solemn oaths in place to guard her heart.

As it happened, they had done no such thing. It wasn't for lack of protests from Emma's mother. She knew how cruel this world could be to a beautiful young woman with no parents to protect her. But Emma's father believed that Killian was far too noble to be a threat to Emma's physical well-being. And he was right.

"_We have to trust Emma's judgment," King David had said to his wife as they argued about his choice of protector for their daughter._

"_But she's just a girl!" Snow White pleaded.  
_

"_Woman," David corrected, "She's a level-headed, highly intuitive, strong willed, intelligent young woman. We've taught her how to think critically and how to protect herself."_

"_But you don't know what it's like to be a young woman falling in love." _

"_No, I don't." King David sighed and held his wife's face gently in his hands. "But I know Emma well enough to know that she is not going to let her feelings overpower her intuition. When she falls in love, she'll make the right choices. And she won't allow herself to do any of that until she's ready." _

_Snow White was filled with worry. Her husband's words did nothing to quell the uneasiness she felt in her gut. _

"_Snow, we have to accept the fact that we have no control over the life Emma will lead. If we don't find a way to defeat the Dark One, we may never see her again. Odds are, Emma will have to choose her own suitors. Killian will protect her from anyone that would try to hurt her."_

"_But what if she chooses him?" Snow White asked. _

_David had to admit, he hadn't thought of that. _

"_If she chooses him, then I would be delighted with her choice." _

Though King David had given Killian no instruction or command regarding the nature of the personal relationship he was to have with the Princess, Killian had assumed that romantically, she was to be considered off-limits. How was he to know that the King had intentionally said nothing on the subject? He_ wasn't._ And so even though Killian could feel Emma's eyes scanning him as he lay there lounging in the sunlight, he chose to ignore it and suppress the desire he felt for her as well.

It was a sorry state of affairs, but they were both resigned to believe the lies they told themselves. Both keeping their hearts on a short leash and refusing to let their minds wander.

Or at least not let them wander _too_ far.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma tried her best to appear as one resigned to her fate as she and Killian strode into the inn at the edge of the small town at the foot of the mountains. He shoved her down into a corner booth by the back door.

"Stay there, wench!" He spat at her.

"Captain Hook!" The barman cried, hurrying over to the table with a large flagon of ale. It was hard to say if the man was feeling terrified or elated to see Killian. Perhaps a little of both.

"What's this?" He asked, his tone low, a dangerous edge in his voice.

"My finest ale, Cap'n Hook sir."

"And why would you bring _that_ to _my_ table, Mr. Hopper?" The poor barman was stammering for what seemed like an eternity.

"I- I- I thought perhaps the lady might want…"

"You thought wrong, Hopper!" He roared, sweeping the flagon off the table and sending it flying across the room and the barman at least a foot in the air. Emma hadn't noticed the sharp, silver hook sticking out of the left-hand sleeve of his coat until then. She ducked her head and covered her face with her hands as if she were afraid of his outburst, but truly she did it to hide the smile she couldn't contain. He was playing his role so well.

"You bring me your best rum and two bowls of whatever slop you're calling soup today," Killian growled, holding the man by the collar. "And be quick about it," He added, lowering his voice as he raised his hook toward the poor man's throat. Mr. Hopper's eyes went wide and he nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes sir, Cap'n sir!" And with that, Killian let him go with a forceful shove and the bar keep scurried away.

The fearsome pirate Captain puffed himself up as he took a good look around the tavern. It was mostly empty except for a few townspeople who looked very frightened, staring most intently at their drinks and tables. Satisfied with his performance, Kilian deposited himself in the booth opposite her. She bit her lip and hid her face to keep from laughing.

He was brilliant.

A few moments later, Mr. Hopper reappeared before them holding a large metal tray. Trembling so much that Emma felt quite sure he would drop it, he set a pitcher of water and two tall glasses on the table. Then the bowls of soup, each with a chunk of less-than-fresh bread. Lastly, he set down a rather large bottle of rum and one short glass.

"He-here you are, Cap'n. Please forgive my m-m-mistake, sir."

"Thanks very much, Mr. Hopper," he replied, his tone sounding annoyed. He waved at him dismissively and the bar keep scurried away again.

They enjoyed their meal in silence. The other guests of the inn seemed to have no trouble believing their play acting.

Earlier, Killian had explained to her how one of the missions her father had sent him on was to take on a secret identity to spy on his enemies and gather information about Rumplestiltskin's plans. The King had not been specific, not wanting to know anything about Killian's doppelganger in case he was ever questioned under duress. Killian had rather enjoyed playing the part of his rum guzzling alter ego, the dreaded pirate Captain Hook, which only made him all the more convincing.

Once the Captain had drunk a considerable amount of rum, they'd both finished their food and the entire contents of the water pitcher, he stood up and threw a handful of gold coins on the table. He reached for Emma's hand and yanked hard to pull her upright, crushing her body against his and placing a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"Shall we make our way upstairs, m'lady?" He asked, his breath hot on her neck, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before taking a big swig of rum straight from the bottle.

They almost got away without a hitch.

"Captain James Hook!" A deep, gravelly voice bellowed from across the room. Killian looked up and saw a figure in the door that made his jaw drop. His mouth froze agape for only a moment before melting into a devilish grin.

"Captain Blackbeard!" Killian cried, smiling as he lowered himself into an exaggerated bow.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Ohhhhhhhhhh snap. Next chapter's already written. How bad do you want it? ;)


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This is essentially a double Dawnguard day. Thanks to Meredith L and SunnyCitrus10 for spurring me on. Also because I really wasn't satisfied with ending this chapter as it originally was. So today you get one super long chapter instead of two shorties! Thanks for the reviews, y'all. They really do keep me inspired.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They almost got away without a hitch.

"Captain James Hook!" A deep, gravelly voice bellowed from across the room. Killian looked up and saw a figure in the door that made his jaw drop. His mouth froze agape for only a moment before melting into a devilish grin.

"Captain Blackbeard!" Killian cried, smiling as he lowered himself into an exaggerated bow.

"Admiral Blackbeard," the larger man corrected.

"Admiral? My sincerest apologies," Killian said, bowing his head in a show of exaggerated respect. Blackbeard laughed and slapped a meaty hand on his back.

"What brings you to this landlocked hell-hole?" Blackbeard asked. Snapping his fingers expectantly at Mr. Hopper, who was hiding behind the bar. Within moments, Blackbeard had his own bottle of rum and sat himself down in a chair at a table near the front door.

"Just passing through with the lady here," He said, crushing her to his side once more. Emma made a face like she was utterly disgusted by the prospect of being touched by this man, knowing that their survival depended on her ability to convince him (and anyone else who happened to be watching) that she did not want to be anywhere near him. Killian plunked his bottle down on the table and pulled her hips square against his, eliciting a gasp from her before she tried to pull away. He grinned and pressed his forehead to hers, no matter how far back she leaned. He turned his head to look at Blackbeard, "She's willing enough away from prying eyes," he said, winking.

"I've no doubt," Blackbeard replied, letting his eyes roam over her body, lingering on her bosom, made all the more desirable by the overbust corset she wore with her wide necked chemise. Killian plopped himself down in the chair opposite Blackbeard, pulling Emma into his lap.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Killian whispered, slurring his speech as he leaned in over the table. Blackbeard leaned in to meet him.

"Oh, please do."

"I'm going to ransom her to the King," He whispered, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

"Are you trying to tell me that this is the crowned Princess of the realm?"

"Of course not!" Killian spat, taking a swig of his rum, "But she looks the part, doesn't she?" He said, puckering his lips and moving in towards her. She struggled to get away from him, but his strong arms kept her legs immobilized in his lap.

"You really think he'll buy it?" Blackbeard asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice barely audible.

"Worth a shot," Killian replied, shrugging.

Blackbeard burst out in a fit of uproarious laughter, making Emma nearly jump out of her skin. Killian joined in. The two of them laughed and laughed till they cried.

"Hook, you're a grog-snarfing scoundrel!" He bellowed, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I prefer dashing rapscallion," Killian replied, raising his bottle to his old comrade. Blackbeard let out a hearty chortle and they toasted one another with their rapidly draining rum bottles.

Killian glanced at the clock hanging over the door.

"Bloody hell, is that the time?" He popped up from his seat, bringing Emma with him, never taking his hands off her. "Apologies, Admiral. The lady and I have a rather pressing social engagement upstairs before we head back to port." Killian said in a terribly suggestive tone as he thrust his hips against hers so as to make his meaning unmistakably clear. Blackbeard laughed.

"Far be it from me to keep you from such a creature," Blackbeard replied, pushing himself out of his seat. He dragged a hand along the side of Emma's face. She flinched and he grinned.

"Farewell, my friend," Killian said, saluting him.

"Safe travels, me heartie," Blackbeard replied, shaking his hand. Killian then turned his full attention to Emma, spun her around to face the staircase behind them and gave her bottom a firm squeeze. She jumped and scurried up the stairs to the sound of Killian's hearty laughter.

Once they were out of sight, Blackbeard signaled a rather swarthy man who had been sitting alone at the bar and was now making his way over to the table where Killian and Emma had been sitting just moments earlier.

"Follow him."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Once Killian and Emma were inside a small bedroom in the inn, he slammed her up against the door, knocking the wind right out of her. He pressed himself against her and moaned softly in her ear, turning the key in the lock behind her.

"Mmmmmm, your majesty," he slurred, "You seem uncomfortable in those clothes. Let's get you out of them, hmmm?"

If Kilian hadn't been stepping away from her and motioning for her to play along, she would have been convinced herself. Truth be told, from the way he was touching her in front of Blackbeard, she'd begun to think perhaps the rum had taken hold and turned her dashing and noble champion into a deplorable, pervy scumbag.

_I should have known it was all part of the act_.

"Ohhhhh, Princess, you are beautiful," He crooned, tying sheets and blankets together, end-to-end. Mouthing the words _'Come on!'_ to encourage her to keep up the charade.

Emma threw her hands uselessly in the air and mouthed, _'I don't know how!'_ right back at him. She'd never had a single suitor. She'd never been kissed by anyone who wasn't immediate family. How was she supposed to know how a pair of lovers _in flagrante_ should sound?

"Ohhh Captain!" She decided that mimicking him was the most logical course of action. He nodded emphatically and waved his hand in circles, encouraging more as he secured his makeshift rope to the bed. Emma was in a state of pure panic. Clearly Killian believed that someone would surely be listening outside the door, perhaps waiting for the opportune moment to barge in and attack them. "Mmmmm!" she moaned, flapping her hands uselessly to try to relieve some of her anxiety.

"Ohh yeah!" Killian called, getting louder, spurring her on as he opened the window and made sure the coast was clear before he began lowering his rope of bed sheets down the side of the building. It reached just above the kitchen window of the tavern below.

Emma had to admit: this was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever done in her entire life.

And she felt quite certain that her parents would die of shame if they could see her now. In fact, if she thought about it too much, Emma was fair certain she herself would die of shame.

Once he'd made it safely past the first story, Killian dropped to the ground below and when Emma was no more than halfway down the rope, called "JUMP!" in as soft a voice as he could manage. She shut her eyes tight and let go, landing safely in his arms. He set her down immediately and they ran full tilt for the forest, never daring to look back.

Blackbeard stepped slowly around the corner of the building and watched as the two of them ran off into the trees. He rubbed his beard pensively.

"Mr. Kenway," Blackbeard called. A particularly rugged, roguish looking sailor who was armed to the teeth stepped around the corner.

"Aye, Captain?"

"Follow those two. Don't let them see you, but don't let them out of your sight."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It had been at least an hour since Emma and Killian had fled Mr. Hopper's inn and they hadn't stopped running since. Emma was propelled by pure adrenaline. She knew if she stopped now, there would be no moving her until she had ample time to rest and recuperate.

"Killian," she pleaded, "How much farther?"

"How much farther can you go?" He asked.

She was about to answer him. But she tripped on a patch of rocky terrain, twisting her ankle, and fell headlong onto the ground, the speed at which she'd been running forcing her body to tumble several times before finally landing, sprawled out on her back.

"Swan!" He cried, rushing over to kneel at her side. "Can you move?" He asked, then shook his head, thinking twice. "Nevermind." He scooped her up in his arms and stood upright. "Hold on tight," he exhorted her, waiting for her to wrap her arms around his neck before he took off in the direction of the bare rock face to his right.

It seemed as if he were looking for something very specific as he carried her along the seemingly endless rocky ridge. Emma knew he'd found whatever it was when he smiled and quickened his pace. He set her down gently by a tall forked tree which had grown around itself in such a way that it looked like two lovers embracing. Glancing all around to make sure they'd not been followed, he dug a rather impressive length of rope out of his haversack.

"If you had that all along, why did you need to ruin that poor inn keeper's bed sheets?" Emma asked, still catching her breath from the breakneck pace they'd been sustaining. Killian smiled at her.

"There would have been no time to retrieve it." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Never abandon a good rope, Swan."

She dug the waterskin out of his haversack and cursed when she remembered they hadn't stopped to fill it.

"There's a reservoir nearby. I'll fill it as soon as we get you to safety," He said, tying a loop in the end of the rope. He stepped back and tossed the rope in the air. It took him a few tries, but eventually he succeeded in catching it on a high branch that stuck out a good ways from the twisted tree trunk. He evened out the rope so that the loop was about a foot off the ground and the free end could be held in his hand. "Can you stand?" He asked, extending his hand to help her.

"I think so," She replied, letting him pull her upright. Her knees wobbled and threatened to give out beneath her. Before she knew what was happening, he'd drawn her tight against him, his arms encircling her waist.

"Steady there, Swan," he said softly, his laboured breath warm and spicy as it mingled with hers. Here they were again. So close.

Killian didn't know if it was the abundance of rum in his system or the way her cheeks were flushed, but at that moment, he felt a nearly overpowering need to kiss her senseless. She was so _warm_; felt so supple in his arms, like her body just naturally molded to his whenever the two were brought close enough. Like magnets.

_Very soft, very beautiful magnets. With long eyelashes and lovely pink lips,_ He thought as he stole a glance at her mouth and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. She was so close. And she wasn't pushing him away. It would be so easy to close the distance between them.

He very nearly did.

And then he looked at her eyes and saw the fear and uncertainty they held. And then he remembered why they were running. He didn't know if she was afraid of his kiss or Blackbeard or both, but it didn't matter. It was enough to bring him to his senses.

He looked down at the ground and cleared his throat, loosening his hold on her.

"There's a cavern just above us in the side of the cliff face. The tree makes it nigh impossible to spot from the ground. So long as we don't light a fire, we can rest here for the night, undetected."

Emma simply nodded in reply, still far too breathless from their flight and almost-kiss to manage anything more intelligible than that.

"I'm going to hoist us up to the cavern, but I'll need your help."

"What do I do?" She asked. Killian demonstrated how his makeshift halyard worked.

"Just put your foot in the loop next to mine and hold on to me as tight as you can." She swallowed hard and nodded. She didn't know how much more time she could spend pressed against Killian's muscular frame without giving in to the desire rising up inside her.

_That doesn't matter right now, _She told herself, _It __can't__ matter. Our lives depend on it._

"Emma, are you sure you're strong enough?" He asked, gently.

"Huh?" She replied, shaking her head to clear it.

"I can't hold onto you at all, I'll be using all my strength to pull the rope and raise us high enough to reach the cavern. Are you sure you've enough strength to handle that?"

There were many things about the life Emma Swan was now living that she was not sure she was strong enough to handle. The running and running and running, the constant fear of being seen or followed, the way her heart raced when Killian smiled at her, the way it screamed for her to attack his mouth with hers, the knowledge that she may never see her parents again, the looming threat of the sorcerer Rumplestiltskin looking for her, the fear of what could happen to Killian if they were found.

But holding on with all her might to the man who single handedly saved her life- who just kept right on saving her life and had made a promise to continue to do so every second of every day for the foreseeable future?

_That_, Emma thought, _I think I can handle_.

She told him so and had to reassure him twice before he finally agreed to try it. Each of them placed a foot in the loop and Killian pulled the rope taut. Emma wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and placed her head on his broad chest. She clung to him as he pulled and pulled, slowly and steadily raising them ever higher till they finally reached the entrance to the cavern.

"I see it!" She exclaimed, never for a second loosening the hold she had around him.

"Can you reach it?" He asked, stopping once they were nearly level with the cavern floor, the muscles in his arms straining with the effort of holding still.

"I think so," she said, glancing at it over her shoulder. "I'm going to lean over and try for it." He nodded and braced himself, wrapping the rope around his hands to lock it in place. Emma leaned over to reach for it, but couldn't quite. "It's too far away," She lamented.

Then she had a brilliant idea.

"We need to swing for it."

"What?" He asked, incredulously.

_Emma remembered a day when her parents had promised a trip to the lake. She loved to swim and was so rarely allowed to go anywhere. She was overcome with excitement. She was even more surprised when they stepped out of the carriage onto the edge of a cliff. Upon closer inspection, she learned that there was, in fact, a lake below. The view was breathtaking. But perhaps the most beautiful sight was a remarkably tall, gnarled tree growing right out of the cliff face. Her mother, of all people, handed her father a length of rope to secure to the tree._

"_You want me to do __what__?!" _

"_Emma, I promise you, it is more than safe. I did this myself as a child!" Her mother said encouragingly. _

"_I can't do that!"_

"_You're always complaining that you never get to go anywhere or do anything," Her father said, matter-of-factly._

"_And I'll __really__ never get to go anywhere or do anything when I fall to my death!" _

"_Oh Emma, don't be so dramatic," Her mother said, smiling as she backed up slowly before running full tilt toward the edge of the cliff. Emma gasped as her mother grabbed the rope and let it swing all the way forward and all the way back, gaining momentum. It flung her forward and she watched as her mother let go of the rope and went flying out over the lake before diving in the cool water. _

_It was the most beautiful and exhilarating thing Emma had ever seen. _

_That is, until she did it herself. _

"You're just going to have to trust me, Killian. Whatever you do, don't let go," She said, looking up into his eyes. He nodded and she began a slow pattern of leaning forward into him, then leaning all the way back, then forward, then back, gaining more and more momentum until the cavern floor was within inches of them at full swing. She gave herself one more swing to prepare and then leapt from the rope into the cave.

At that exact moment, poor Killian Jones thought his heart was going to fail him. Once he could see she had landed safely in the cavern, he followed suit, diving in headfirst and rolling to a stop.

Emma laughed incredulously as she made her way to standing and dusted herself off, filled with delight at their impressive team work.

Killian was not quite so pleased. He scrambled to his feet and charged at her, seizing her by the arms and shaking her.

"What the hell were you thinking?! You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have killed us both! You bloody mad woman!"

She stared up at him, eyes wide, speechless. No one had ever shouted at her like that before. She'd never imagined her gentle, compassionate and kind protector could have such fierce anger inside of him. Especially not towards her.

"I-I'm sorry," She stammered, struggling to find words to soothe his rage, "I'll never do anything like that again."

"Damn right you won't."

And with that, he crushed his lips against hers.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: If you're still with me by now, I think you've earned a little CS smooching.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Alright y'all, this is another looong one. And the Rumbelle story finally begins. Hope you love it! :)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"What the hell were you thinking?! You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have killed us both! You bloody mad woman!"

She stared up at him, eyes wide, speechless. No one had ever shouted at her like that before. She'd never imagined her gentle, compassionate and kind guardian could have such fierce anger inside of him. Especially not towards her.

"I-I'm sorry," She stammered, struggling to find words to soothe his rage, "I'll never do anything like that again."

"Damn right you won't."

And with that, he crushed his lips against hers.

Emma Swan froze. She felt her whole body tense, completely caught off guard by Killian's sudden display of affection. And then she felt her senses take over, her legs felt like jelly, her heart raced, and she felt the most delicious warmth rising up inside her as she gave herself over to his positively enrapturing kisses. She clung to him, drawing him closer, sure she'd never be able to get enough of feeling completely intoxicated by the closeness of him.

_So this is love…_ She thought dreamily, breathing in the scent of him - salt water and spice.

The very moment the thought crossed her mind, her eyes snapped open as if waking suddenly from an alarming dream.

_This isn't right. _

_We hardly know each other. _

_I can't do this. _

As if on instinct, Killian opened his eyes slowly and saw that hers were staring back at him. There was no trace of the warmth and desire he'd felt flowing from her lips just moments earlier - only fear and doubt. He broke the kiss. And for a moment they both just stood there, gaping at one another, breathing heavily, not ready to let go but not ready to continue either.

"Forgive me, Swan," He said finally, letting go of her and looking down at the floor, touching his hand to his lips. "I've had far too much rum."

"Yes, of course," She replied, automatically slipping into diplomat mode. "I think I need to rest for a while. If that's alright."

"Certainly," he replied, "I should check that the coast is clear. Make sure we weren't followed." He retrieved his empty waterskin before tossing his haversack on the floor. "I'll fetch us some water as well." He paced a bit nervously, "Will you be alright?"

She nodded and forced a smile, digging her green cloak out of the haversack and rolling it up as a makeshift pillow.

Killian started toward the entrance to the cave. He paused and half turned as if to say something else, but when he saw her big green eyes looking up at him, so full of both confusion and gracious acceptance, he couldn't bear the thought of doing any more damage with words hastily spoken. So he turned away and headed for the open door.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Back at the Royal Palace, Rumplestiltskin's vexation was growing stronger with every passing minute. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the large table in the dining hall as he listened to a seemingly endless string of excuses pouring out of the mouth of the highest ranking soldier in his army. Moreover, he was irritated with himself for damaging the castle as much as he had in the siege. The Great Hall and the dungeon were the only two rooms in the castle that had sustained no damage and were thus fit for holding the King and Queen hostage. And since he couldn't release the Evil Queen without fear of retribution, neither could he allow Snow White and Prince Charming anywhere near her. The last thing he needed were those three forming an alliance against him.

_Is this fool really still talking?_ Rumplestiltskin thought as he stared blankly ahead.

_We've searched high and low, blah blah blah, there's no sign of her anywhere, blah blah, someone must have helped her escape, blah blah, we're sending more guards to search the outlying villages blah blah blah blah BLAH. _

"Enough!" The Dark One hissed and with a flick of his wrist, the man disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"W-wh-where did you send him, sir?" asked the gentleman in plain clothes who had been standing beside him just a moment earlier.

"Poseidon's Boneyard. At the bottom of the ocean," The Dark One replied, sneering. The poor man's eyes looked as if they might pop right out of his head. "I take it your spies have been equally useless?"

"Mr. Rumplestiltskin, sir. I-I-"

Rumplestiltskin sighed as he listened to the man try to stutter his way through some cockamamie excuse or other.

"Oh, why don't you just go join him?" He said, waving his hand dismissively and making the other man disappear just as the first had.

"You know they can't help you if you keep sending them away like that," said a soft, feminine voice from behind him.

"I don't remember asking for your advice, dearie," Rumplestiltskin replied, narrowing his eyes at her. "Don't you have something to clean?" He snapped as she rounded the table and stood before him.

"Not really," She replied, wringing her hands, "This place is pretty spotless. I'm surprised you brought me here at all."

"I can always send you back?" He suggested, raising his hands for showmanship.

"That's alright," she answered, turning around and heading for the door, "If you don't mind, I think I'll explore the castle for a while. It's not every day you get to visit the Royal Palace."

"Very well," He said, knowing he'd never deny her anything, but still maintaining a tone of irritation for the sake of appearances. "But stay in the castle!" He boomed.

"You could ask nicely," She said, chiding him gently, the ghost of a playful smile on her lips.

"I could also turn you into a toad!" He retorted with great exasperation. She spun around and headed for the door.

"Oh, and Belle?" He called after her. She paused, peeking back through the doorway.

"Yes?" She asked, smiling brightly.

"Stay away from the dungeon."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_What the hell was I thinking?_ He thought, standing at the entrance to the cave and surveying the land below for any sign of another soul. He'd never felt so conflicted in his whole life. He couldn't stop thinking about the way she'd melted in his arms, giving herself over to him completely, even if it was only for a moment.

Killian pulled off his overcoat and vest and tossed them on the cavern floor behind him. He stood with his toes on the edge of the cliff and jumped for the tree branch directly above his head. He climbed along it carefully until he reached the rope, still draped over the branch he was hanging from. He made a mental note to bring it with him to the reservoir to ensure Emma's safety.

_She's just an innocent girl. She's in my charge. She trusts me implicitly. How could I betray her trust like that?_

He scolded himself internally as he made his way back down to the ground using his makeshift pulley. Once he'd landed safely, he pulled the rope from the tree and began winding it around his arm, then slipped it over his head and wore it like a sash across his torso. He made his way to the reservoir, it was a short walk from the cavern, but far enough that anyone drawing water wouldn't hear them so long as they kept their voices down. It truly was the perfect place to hide. Killian intended for them to spend the night there, then continue on to the Maritime Kingdom. It would be at least another two days' journey taking the route they were currently using, but it was safer than any alternative he could think of.

It was imperative that they reach the Maritime Kingdom before the Jolly Roger. The plan to hide in Arendelle, a foreign kingdom on the sea with precious little connection to the Enchanted Forest, depended wholly upon it. They couldn't reach Arendelle without a ship. And the only way to ensure they weren't seen traveling to Arendelle by any who might betray them would be to make the journey on the Jolly.

Killian tried to focus his thoughts on making a solid plan and backup plan for the next few days. But they just kept drifting back to Emma and the kiss he'd stolen from her. He washed his face in the cool mountain stream, hoping to cleanse his mind as well. He filled his waterskin and drained it in a few short gulps. It felt so refreshing on his parched throat and he knew he needed to flush the alcohol from his system if he was ever going to think straight and keep his hands to himself tonight. So he filled and emptied his waterskin once more before filling it for Emma. He kicked himself for not thinking to carry two, but at the time, he'd figured twice the water meant twice the weight of his haversack and they needed to travel light.

He felt anxious to get back to her, even though he was still unsure of how he could face her. He laid his cards so plainly on the table before her. And she pushed them away.

_It matters not, _He thought, steeling himself._ I have to protect her at all costs. I don't have the luxury of having feelings for her._

Killian made his way back to the twisted tree and tossed the rope back over the branch, smiling as he got it on the first try this time. He easily hoisted himself back up to the cavern and climbed back across the branch as he had before.

_Swinging like a monkey in a tree this far in the air,_ He thought, smirking to himself, _Bloody mad woman. _

All traces of the smile on Killian's face faded immediately when he saw Emma lying on the ground, her feet and torso bound in rope, a rag stuffed in her mouth to stifle her would-be screams as she squirmed on the cavern floor.

Killian drew his sword immediately, his eyes darting around him to find her captor. His efforts were rewarded with a savage backhand across his face that seemed to come from nowhere and sent both Killian and his sword sprawling in opposite directions. He placed a hand on his cheek and stretched his jaw, trying to assess the damage.

"Show yourself, coward!" Killian spat.

His bravery was met with the sound of deep, menacing laughter. It was a laugh he'd heard many times before. Given the way Emma's eyes went even wider still, he could tell she'd recognized it as well.

_It can't be..._ He thought.

And then, out of thin air, Blackbeard appeared before him, removing a dark green cloak from around his shoulders.

"Well done, Jones. An admirable performance, I must say."

"Blackbeard! You dog!" Killian said through his teeth, "You will untie that woman at once!"

"Well that's entirely dependent upon you, my boy." Killian began to make his way to his feet but Blackbeard put an end to that with a swift kick to his groin, sending him straight back to his knees, doubled over in pain and coughing. "Don't bother getting up." Blackbeard said, pushing Killian's shoulder with the toe of his boot so that he tumbled onto his back.

"What do you want?" Killian managed to choke out, deciding it best to stay put and try to recover his strength as best he could. Clearly Blackbeard wanted to talk. But Killian wanted to be ready to defend himself and Emma if it came to it.

"A trade," the larger man replied, twirling his moustache in his fingers. "You see, I had my suspicions about this Hook, Captain of the Jewel of the Realm, the first time I heard of him." He stared down at him, "Honestly, Killian, did you think I wouldn't remember how sorely you grieved the loss of that ship when it sank?"

Blackbeard began striding a slow figure eight shape, first circling Killian, then Emma, then back again.

"Then when I saw you in the tavern wearing your ridiculous disguise and dragging this pretty little thing around," He continued, waving a hand flippantly in Emma's direction, "I knew it had to be you..." He sauntered over to Emma then, deliberately making eye contact with her, "and that this had to be the true Princess, rather than a doppelgänger as you so cleverly suggested."

Emma tried desperate to mask her emotions. But it was hard to feel like she had any control over any part of her body when she was bound so thoroughly.

"Your escape from the second floor window of the tavern was just the confirmation I needed to send my best man after you."

"You still haven't told me what you want," Killian reminded him.

"You really have no idea, do you?" Blackbeard asked, shaking his head and clicking his tongue in disapproval. "This," He began, holding up the dark green cloak he had been wearing, "is an invisibility cloak. It once belonged to the Queen. She used it to avoid being captured by the Old Usurper all those years ago."

"That belongs to the lady," Killian growled, his voice low.

"Well I doubt she'll begrudge the trade, since I came here to take her from you and claim the ransom for myself. But this is far more valuable." Blackbeard said, twirling the cloak in his hand.

"And what have you to offer in exchange?" Killian asked. Blackbeard reached into his shirt and pulled a silver necklace over his head. He stood next to Killian, who was still flat on his back, and dangled it over him.

"I believe you know what this is. Under the circumstances, I'd wager the pair of you would find it more valuable than any treasure in the entire kingdom."

Killian's eyes lit up as he recognized the two charms dangling from the thick, silver chain.

"What if I refuse?" Killian asked, pushing himself up on his elbows defiantly.

"If you refuse, then I'll take the cloak and the necklace and the girl and leave you here to rot," Blackbeard said, sneering. "I have, as you know, an undying loyalty to the King and a fierce hatred for anyone who crosses me, including the Dark One. It is my desire to help you on your journey. To ensure the safety of the Princess and reunite her with her family. What with the Dark One and all his spies and the price he's put on that girl's head, you'd be a fool to refuse my gracious offer."

Killian considered the pirate Captain's words. In many ways, Admiral Blackbeard had been like a father to him during the time Killian had spent on his ship in the Royal Navy. He'd grown close to the man over the years; become his confidante. He knew Blackbeard had never broken the fealty he'd pledged to King David. Even when Killian had heard of his mentor turning to piracy, he could scarcely believe it. And he knew all too well of the rivalry between Blackbeard and the Dark One. He'd heard the story more times than he could count - usually late at night when Blackbeard had drunk more rum than was good for him. He'd unwittingly stolen the Dark One's wife, his Milah, and in a fit of anger, the evil sorcerer had found them out and murdered his love right before his eyes. When Blackbeard had tried to avenge her, the Dark One had cut off his leg and left it to fate to decide if he would bleed to death or live with the pain of the loss he'd suffered. The more he thought about it, Blackbeard had every reason to want to help the King and spite the Dark One.

There was a part of Killian that wanted to trust Blackbeard. But there was another part of him that feared for Emma's safety. His eyes fell to her as she lay there on the cold, rocky ground, bound and gagged. He remembered how she'd fallen earlier and likely injured herself given the speed they'd been traveling.

They had no choice but to trust him.

"Very well, Admiral. We accept your terms on one condition."

"What's that?" Blackbeard replied, chuckling at Killian's impudence.

"You sail us in secret to the Maritime Kingdom on the Queen Anne's Revenge."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's leaving reviews. They keep the words a-flowing and I need that very much right now as I've hit a wall on chapter 12 - I like to stay a few chapters ahead so I can keep my updates regular.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

There was a part of Killian that wanted to trust Blackbeard. But there was another part of him that feared for Emma's safety. His eyes fell to her as she lay there on the cold, rocky ground, bound and gagged. He remembered how she'd fallen earlier and likely injured herself given the speed they'd been traveling.

They had no choice but to trust him.

"Very well, Admiral. We accept your terms on one condition."

"What's that?" Blackbeard replied, chuckling at Killian's impudence.

"You sail us in secret to the Maritime Kingdom on the Queen Anne's Revenge."

Blackbeard raised his chin defiantly and began twirling his moustache again as he considered Killian's counter offer.

"Done!" He said with a sense of finality, extending his hand to Killian to help him off the ground. Killian accepted. Once on his feet, Killian tightened his grip on the old man's hand.

"You know if you betray me, I'll be forced to do something rash."

"Naturally," Blackbeard replied, obligingly, his voice thick with implications.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Back at the Royal Palace, Rumplestiltskin was hard at work. He leaned over the table in the dining hall, a number of small glass bottles and ingredients and whimsical looking contraptions laid out before him.

And one very large map.

Just then, he heard the sound of heels clicking on the stone floor.

"Ahh, Belle," He began, smiling and rubbing his hands together, visibly pleased with her arrival.

"You sent for me?" She asked.

"Yes, I did. I need you to do something for me," He said, walking towards her.

"Anything," She replied, gazing up at him for a moment before blinking rapidly, remembering herself, "I mean, I am your servant, after all."

"Yes," he replied, seeming to be lost in thought for a moment, just as she had been.

She smiled at him warmly.

He cleared his throat.

"I need you to find something that belongs to the Princess."

"That shouldn't be hard. Anything in particular you're looking for?"

"No, no," he said dismissively, "Anything will do. Just make absolutely sure it belongs to her."

"Alright," Belle began, looking at him with apparent suspicion, "What do you need it for?"

Rumplestiltskin leaned over the map and ran his hands over it slowly.

"A locator spell."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Killian and Emma had agreed to spend the night resting in the cavern and meet Blackbeard just before sunrise on the Queen Anne's Revenge, which was docked at a nearby port. It was the only way to ensure they weren't seen boarding the ship.

It was late afternoon and Emma was preparing herself for an early night. There was a chill in the air, whether from the cavern or the wind, and she counted herself lucky that she'd kept her heavy brown cloak now that Blackbeard had taken the green one. Her mother's cloak. She'd probably sent it on purpose. Emma felt foolish that she hadn't discovered its powers before their encounter with Blackbeard.

She could have at least told Killian, Emma thought, deciding that blaming her mother's paranoia made the loss of such a precious family heirloom easier to bear.

After all, she could hardly blame Killian for agreeing to the terms placed before him. Blackbeard had them cornered. There was no other option but to acquiesce.

She glanced at him over her shoulder as she combed her fingers through her long, golden hair. He was seated on the cavern floor, back against the wall, staring blankly at the necklace he'd traded for her mother's cloak. He'd been there for quite some time, motionless, speechless, seemingly lost in thought.

Once again, Emma found that she couldn't blame him. Her own mind was still reeling from the events of the day. Their daring escape from the inn, her twisted ankle which had swollen quite painfully, their run-ins with the infamous pirate Blackbeard, and the heated moment they'd shared in the entrance to the cave.

It was the one thing Emma couldn't find a logical explanation for. Apart from the few highly exaggerated advances he'd made in the tavern (all very obviously a part of the show), Killian had been very clear that he was not interested in Emma beyond fulfilling his duties as her protector and traveling companion.

_But that kiss_.

Being that it was her first, she didn't have anything else to compare it to. But it felt _so_ _real_. So desperate. As if he was longing for her just as much as she was for him.

But then something stopped them. Both of them.

For her own part, Emma regretted freezing up like that. True, she was scared, caught off guard. But if she was honest with herself, she'd been wanting him to kiss her like that from the moment she laid eyes on him.

But it wasn't Killian she was afraid of.

Over the past few days, she had been using all of her powers of intuition to study him. She was absolutely certain that he had never lied to her. She knew she could trust him.

Emma was afraid of herself. Afraid of her feelings. Afraid of her own foolish heart.

_Who falls for a man they just met? _

She stole another glance at him as she finished another round of braiding and unbraiding her hair, as if by doing so, she could make a ribbon to secure it magically appear.

He seemed so... sad.

It was the sight of his sadness that made at least one thing about her feelings for Killian abundantly clear. She may not be able to understand her own heart, but she knew she couldn't bear to see this man so unhappy. Especially not when he'd given his life to save her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Belle returned shortly after their first conversation with a hairbrush she'd found on the vanity in Emma's old bedroom.

"Will this do?" She asked, holding up the hairbrush.

"That depends," Rumplestiltskin mused, "Are you certain it belongs to the Princess?"

"It was in her room and there are strands of her hair still stuck in the bristles."

"Wonderful!" He cheered, clapping and giggling excitedly. He reached for it and she snatched it away from his grasp.

"Not so fast!" She said, a playful sort of reproachfulness in her tone, "First I want to know what you plan to do with this."

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, sneering, "I need it for a locator spell. I'm going to use it to locate the missing Princess."

"Yes, but _why_?" She prodded.

"Because I want to reunite her with her parents, of course!" The old crocodile lied.

Belle raised a very suspicious eyebrow at him. He sighed.

"I came here to collect on a deal I knew the King and Queen were planning to back out of. I never wanted to harm the girl, I never wanted to harm anyone. I just want what's mine to be restored to me." Belle seemed unconvinced. He waved his hands impatiently. "Think of it as leverage. If I return the girl safely to her parents, I get what I want."

_Using her to get what he wants. That seems far more likely,_ Belle thought.

"Very well," She replied, bringing the hairbrush out from behind her back. The Dark One smiled at her and reached for it, but she snatched it out of his grasp once more. "Promise you won't hurt her?"

Rumplestiltskin gave her his most reassuring smile, which looked far more like the scheming grin of a crocodile for anyone other than Belle to feel reassured.

"Promise," he hissed.

Satisfied, she handed him the hairbrush.

And he rewarded her with a quick peck on the cheek.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma made her way carefully over to sit next to Killian on the floor.

He didn't move.

She placed her head on his shoulder.

She could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She couldn't hide hers so easily.

"Was that yours?" She asked, nodding at the necklace.

"Aye," He answered, turning it over in his hands, "It was. Once. Long ago."

"It must be very special." He gave her a half-hearted smile.

"It is." He sat forward and turned toward her, sweeping her hair out of the way before placing it carefully around her neck. "It belonged to my brother."

Emma inspected the two pendants dangling from the thick braided chain now hanging from her neck. One was an ornate dagger, made entirely of silver, with some runes carved into the blade. The other had a golden skull in the center of an iron cross.

"I look like a pirate!" She said with a playful grin. He laughed.

"Or the companion of a pirate anyway," He replied, gazing at her.

She smiled at him, pleased that she'd managed to lighten his dark mood.

He brushed her golden hair behind her shoulder and took a moment to admire the stark contrast of the rather garish necklace around her elegant neck before meeting her eyes once more.

"Emma, it's very important that you keep this with you always. You must never take it off."

"Alright," She conceded, confused. "Why?"

"Because this necklace is enchanted. It will hide you from your enemies until you decide to reveal yourself."

"How do you know it works?" She asked, skeptical. It seemed more like play jewelry than a precious magical relic.

"Because the very moment my brother removed this necklace, I saw him killed by a man who hated him for years."

Emma's eyes went wide.

"Killian-" she began, breathlessly, "I can't accept this." Immediately she started to take it off. But he caught her hands in his and held them there.

"You must." He insisted, gazing intently into her eyes.

"But this. This is something special. Something that belonged to your brother. This is precious, Killian. This belongs to you!"

"You are something special, Swan. And you are _far_ more precious than all the magic and all the treasure in the world. You must wear the necklace. Always."

There was such earnestness in his eyes as they locked with hers.

For a moment, Emma thought she might kiss him again.

But Killian brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them gently.

"Promise me, Swan."

What else could she do?

"I promise."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rumplestiltskin watched with great anticipation as the hair brush began to float over the table. He smiled and rolled up his map, stuffing it in his pocket. She couldn't have gotten very far. It had only been two days since the attack and she was a Princess after all.

A Princess who had almost never been allowed outside the castle.

A Princess who was accustomed to life in a palace rather than life on the run in the muck and mire of the Enchanted Forest.

A Princess unfamiliar with the lay of the land.

She was probably lying on her face in the forest somewhere, half-dead from dehydration.

Rumplestiltskin smiled as the hairbrush began to float toward the front door.

And then it clattered to the ground.

"WHAT?!" He hissed, grinding his teeth. He waved his hand at it as if to resume the spell. It jumped and turned over once, as if it had been shocked, but moved no more.

He flicked both hands at it more forcefully. It rolled over a few more times, but that was all.

Again and again and again he tried, concentrating all his power and anger and energy on making the brush float and lead him to the girl.

But it would not.

It lay there lifeless, just as hair brushes are intended to.

He let out a fearsome roar that shook the entire palace and sent everything within a 50 foot radius flying and clattering to the ground, much like the hairbrush that refused to lead him to the missing Princess.

He crumpled to the floor, his legs folding under him, and stared blankly ahead.

Rumplestiltskin was not a man to be thwarted.

Rumplestiltskin was a man to be feared.

He promised the King and Queen that he would find their daughter.

And so he would.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Any Rumbelle fans following this? Gonna get a little Choose-Your-Own-Adventure here since I'm at a crossroads with them. I can continue developing the Rumbelle relationship or just let it be a plot device. Your call!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Four. new. reviews. And my average reader numbers are ever-increasing. I love you guys. And because I love you and your encouraging words, I've given you an extra long chapter with lots of DRAMA. Hope you love it!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Killian and Emma made it safely aboard the Queen Anne's Revenge before first light. Most of the sailors were still asleep in their beds. Being that Blackbeard had not employed a cabin boy since young Killian Jones had left his service, his old quarters just off the Captain's cabin were left unoccupied. It was here that Killian and Emma would have to stay for the duration of their trip to the Maritime Kingdom. Thankfully, they'd shaved off more than half the expected travel time in going by sea. Blackbeard was confident that the Queen Anne's Revenge could make it there by dawn the next day.

Killian felt a bit nostalgic walking into his old cabin boy quarters. There was only one entrance which led directly to the Captain's cabin and one very small round window on the starboard side of the ship. There was also a small chair with a table beside it in the corner and a narrow hammock bed suspended from the ceiling.

"I'll sleep in the chair," He says automatically, clearing his throat.

Emma doesn't bother to argue with him because she knows he won't listen.

The two of them enjoy a lovely breakfast that had been laid out for them on the small table. There was an ample amount of food left over, more than enough to see them through the rest of their journey to the Maritime Kingdom.

Now all they had to do was wait.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You have a lot of nerve showing your face here."

Rumplestiltskin smiled as he rounded the corner of the underground tunnel leading to the magical prison he'd made for the Evil Queen.

"What can I say? I am fond of a challenge."

The Evil Queen threw her head back and laughed.

"A challenge? Me? In here? Haven't you already proven yourself the better sorcerer?"

"Perhaps," He conceded with a cordial wave.

"Perhaps I already know the reason you're here," Regina began, placing her hands on the bars of her prison cell, "Perhaps I already have the answers you seek."

No sooner had her fingers wrapped around the bars than the two Redguard soldiers turned about-face and pressed the tips of their spears at her throat.

The smile on Regina's lips faded and she unwrapped her fingers from the bars, stepping backward as she raised both hands in surrender.

Immediately, the Redguard soldiers relaxed and turned their backs to her once more, resuming their initial position as if nothing had happened at all. Rumplestiltskin was awestruck. Every move the two Redguard soldiers made was in perfect unison, their eyes hollow and unyielding. He ventured a step closer to get a better look. Their pupils were wide as marbles; a thin ring of deepest crimson was the only color or light they reflected. So dark. So empty. So seemingly vacant, though their awareness of the prisoner's movement had proven them anything but.

"You see what I have to put up with?" Regina asked, gesturing at the guards.

"Well perhaps I might be able to do something about your present circumstances," He said, pacing, "For the right _price_."

Regina couldn't help but laugh.

"_You_ would set _me_ free?"

"If, in fact, you do have the information I'm seeking."

"You would be very foolish to do so," She said, making no attempt to hide the threat in her tone.

"And you would be very foolish to threaten the only one who can ever release you from this prison cell."

Regina crossed her arms.

"Touché," she replied.

"So," Rumplestiltskin began, crossing as close to the cell as he dared with the Redguard soldiers standing by, "Do we have a deal?"

"I suppose we do," She replied, "Now get me out of this hell hole."

Rumplestiltskin simply snapped his fingers and immediately Regina found herself outside, standing on top of a cliff face, overlooking the castle.

She could not hide her astonishment. She laughed out loud incredulously.

"How on earth did you manage that?"

Rumplestiltskin tittered as he twiddled his fingers gleefully.

"A magician never reveals his secrets!"

"Come, Rumple," She began, leaning in, her voice thick with suggestion, "You can tell me. Just between friends."

"Friends, are we?" He asked, chuckling, "Hardly. But I will say this. Only the source of magic like that could manage to defeat it."

"You created the Redguard?"

"Of course, dearie. Who else do you know that's capable of such dark magic?" He paused to watch the indignation flare up in her eyes before continuing to twist the proverbial knife he'd plunged in her back so many years ago, "You know they won't stop looking for you just because you made your way out of that prison cell."

Regina narrowed her eyes.

"What?" She said through her teeth, her anger seething. "You were supposed to set me free."

"And so I did," He replied, matter of factly, "But protecting you from your enemies was never part of the deal." He leaned in close to her, sneering, "You should have chosen your terms more carefully."

Regina stepped back in a show of resignation. Knowing a show was all it really was.

"I should have known better."

"Indeed you should," He said, laughing. "Now. You'd better tell me what you know quickly, dearie. The soldiers will be here before you know it."

Regina shuddered. That was the very last thing she needed.

"Very well," she said with a sigh, "I saw the Princess escape through the tunnels with a man." 

"What man?" He said, leering at her.

"A rugged, tall, dark, and handsome type. Kinda swarthy looking. Easy on the eyes."

"HIS NAME!" The Dark One roared impatiently.

"I don't know," She replied with a nonchalant shrug, "Names are your specialty, not mine."

"We had a deal," He growled through his teeth.

She leaned in towards him, a triumphant smile growing ever wider on her face.

"You should have chosen your terms more carefully."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Kilian was anxious. So far, he'd done fifty push-ups, thirty pull-ups on a bar he'd hung from the rafters as a teenage boy, had three snacks, studied five or six maps from his haversack, even sharpened all the weapons belonging to the pair of them with a whetstone he kept on his person at all times.

Clearly, this was a man uncomfortable with idleness. Emma wondered how he'd managed to stay sane on long journeys aboard the Jolly Roger. Not that she minded watching him work up a sweat, in fact she rather enjoyed watching his muscles strain and swell with the effort, all the while hiding behind the book she'd been pretending to read in the little chair for the last several hours. But his constant need to _do_ something was starting to make her restless.

He dropped to his hands and knees and was just about to start another set of pushups when she slammed her book shut.

"Killian, stop."

He looked up at her quizzically. She sighed and set her book on the table beside her.

"You're making me anxious."

"Apologies, love," He said, sighing as he sat himself down on the cabin floor. "I just can't abide this."

"Come here," She said. Her eyes and voice were soft and filled with understanding as she reached for him.

KIllian sat very still for a moment, thinking carefully how he would respond.

He didn't want to scare her again. And he knew they should be careful not to encourage each other's affections. But they were stuck here in a very small cabin and he was wired and there was nowhere else to go.

_Caution be damned,_ He decided finally, knowing he was probably agreeing to his own execution in doing so, but needing whatever comforts Emma had waiting for him in her arms.

He crawled over to her.

"Sit down," She implored him gently. He obliged, taking a seat on the floor in front of her. She leaned forward and began stroking her fingers through his hair. Kilian let his eyes slide shut and reeled in the simple pleasantness of it. He lay his head down in her lap and she smiled at his resignation. "Tell me what's troubling you," She said softly. It was more of a command than a request, but he knew it was well meant.

The trouble was that he didn't want to reveal that part of himself to her.

Killian knew that Emma looked at him as if he were fearless; like her own personal knight in shining armour who could do no wrong. Selfless, brave, and true. A hero. He didn't want to admit that he was afraid. He didn't want to tell her of the self-doubt that plagued him. He told himself it was because he wanted her to feel safe.

But in truth, it was because he reveled in Emma's perception of him. No one had ever looked at him the way she did. He didn't want to lose that. And with the constant danger they faced, he didn't want her to lose that either.

_But she needs to know the truth. She needs to know I'm just a man. A man with weaknesses and flaws. That I can't always be the hero. Because I'm not. _

"I'm afraid, Swan," He said with a sigh of resignation.

"What are you afraid of, Killian?" She asked, lazily running her fingers through his thick, dark hair, loving the way he was warming to her and responding to her touch.

"Oh, many things," He said, draping his arm over her leg as a pillow for his head, "Afraid Blackbeard will betray us. Afraid we may not be able to reach the Maritime Kingdom before Smee or make it aboard the Jolly Roger without anyone recognizing you. Afraid you've hurt your ankle too much to be able to run anymore."

"Don't worry about my ankle," She replied, interrupting him, "At least there I can set your mind at ease."

"You're doing a fine job of setting my mind at ease," He replied, placing a chaste kiss on her knee. She smiled and continued tracing patterns on his scalp with her hands, twisting his locks in between her fingers, feeling him warm and melt and mold to her like soft clay in her hands. He sighed again, still conflicted in his mind though he felt his body betray him, her pleasant ministrations drawing him further into her arms. "But that's not all, Swan."

"Then tell me what is," She replied, her voice soft and beseeching.

"I'm afraid that ultimately, I won't be able to protect you."

She paused at that. Only for a moment. And then she ran her hand languidly along his jaw, gently raising his chin to draw his eyes to hers. He obliged.

"I'm not afraid of that."

"I'm no match for the Dark One, love." There was no trace of false humility or self-pity or affirmation-seeking in his voice. "If it comes to a fight, I won't be able to defeat him."

Emma searched his eyes and knew he truly believed every word he had said.

"Perhaps not," She said softly. "But if that time does come, we'll stand a far better chance if we face it together."

He gazed up at her, saw the boldness and sincerity shining in her bright green eyes and thought to himself that he'd never seen anything quite as beautiful as his Swan. _She_ was the true hero. _She_ was the brave one; the fearless one. And he loved her for it.

He couldn't admit that to her. Not now. Not yet.

But he could bask in the sweetness of the gentle kiss she placed upon his lips.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning, Emma woke to the sound of Killian whispering her name softly in her ear. The feeling was so dreamy and pleasant, she couldn't bear to rouse herself.

"Swan, please," He pleaded, "We've long since arrived at our destination, the crew and Captain are fast asleep, but they won't be for much longer. We _must_ go. _Now_."

"Alright," She replied, carefully climbing out of the hammock bed.

"Here love, best put this on," He instructed, twirling her cloak around her shoulders, pulling the hood up over her head. She smiled as he buckled the clasp for her, still half asleep.

Killian led her carefully out of the cabin, sneaking silently past Blackbeard, who was snoring. They were nearly spotted by Blackbeard's First Mate, the barbarous Mr. Kenway, but Killian made sure to duck behind a large crate on deck just in the nick of time. Once Kenway had ventured below deck, they made a run for it, safely clearing the gangway and disappearing into the pre-dawn night.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Just after sunrise, Mr. Kenway was pounding loudly on the Captain's door.

"Captain Blackbeard, sir? We arrived safely in the Maritime Kingdom while you were sleeping. Didn't want to wake you needlessly. The ship's docked and the crew are waiting for orders, sir."

Blackbeard rubbed his eyes sleepily and rolled out of bed.

"Very good, Mr. Kenway. Have the crew see that she's fully supplied and ready to depart once we've unloaded the cargo."

"Aye aye, Captain."

Blackbeard listened for the sound of Mr. Kenway's footsteps retreating. Once satisfied that no one would dare to be caught hanging around the Captain's quarters when he'd given orders for the day's work, he made his way to the cabin boy's chambers and knocked gently on the door.

"Hook!" He called softly, his voice no louder than a whisper. When he heard no reply, he opened the door and found the room empty. There was a folded note hanging from a bar in the rafters just above the hammock bed.

_"Captain J.A.S. Hook thanks Admiral Blackbeard for his kindness and loyalty to His Majesty's humble servants. No doubt our paths will cross again ere long." _

It was the last line in the note that made Blackbeard's heart leap into his throat. He spun around and strode over to the large black chest at the foot of his own bed. He tore through its contents until they were all strewn about the room.

There was no sign of Snow White's invisibility cloak.

And Blackbeard was almost certain there never would be again.

He couldn't help the bitter laughter that spewed forth from his mouth. What began as a low chuckle increased in volume and intensity till it grew into a haunting sort of bellow; like the sound of a madman howling at the moon.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thanks to everyone who helped me bust through that writer's block. You guys are amazing. Your encouraging words and support just keep spurring me on. And I am seriously blown away by how many readers and page views I'm getting on this story. So to all you silent ones out there - thank you for being here!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma and Killian had made it safely aboard the Jolly Roger, finding her at another dock not far from the Queen Anne's Revenge. Emma hid behind some barrels a little ways from what she'd guessed would be the Captain's Quarters, careful to stay out of the way of any sailors on deck, as Killian commanded a very confused Mr. Smee to prepare for immediate departure.

"B-b-but Captain! We've only just arrived. We haven't even unloaded the cargo yet!"

"Did I stutter, Mr. Smee? There will be no unloading of cargo. There will be no delays and there will be NO excuses. Prepare the ship for immediate departure!"

"Aye aye, Captain!" Smee responded with a salute and scurried off. She watched as Killian assumed his most authoritative stance and strode across the deck bellowing orders right and left, sending the crew into a flurry of activity.

They were on their way to the open sea in no time and Killian signaled for Emma to follow him. He made his way to the Captain's Quarters and hurried her inside, shouting an order at Mr. Smee to man the wheel and allow him time to rest from his arduous journey. He followed shortly and shut the door behind him. He placed a finger over his lips, a silent command, as he checked all over his cabin for any sign of stowaways or spies. Satisfied that he'd found none, he plopped himself down in an oversized leather arm chair and let out a deep sigh of relief.

"It's alright, Swan. The coast is clear."

She stepped out from behind his four poster bed, removed her cloak, and set it on the table beside him. He nearly leapt out of his seat.

"Bloody hell, I didn't see you there!"

She laughed.

"I didn't mean to scare you," She said, making her way over to him.

"Didn't you? You seem to have rather a knack for it," He replied, grinning as he pulled her into his lap. She smiled triumphantly as he kissed her, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Emma was loving the way he was opening up to her. How far they'd come in just a few days from the people who couldn't even look at each other without giggling like a schoolgirl or launching into dire internal monologues about how they could never be.

Killian broke the kiss and laced his fingers with hers.

"You know, Swan. I think we've done it. I think we're finally out of the woods, so to speak."

"Oh?" She asked, gently tracing her fingers over his brow and jaw and lips, "And how is that?"

"Well, we've made it safely aboard my ship. We're on our way to Arendelle. And…" He trailed off.

_And I love you. Just say it. _

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

But he couldn't. Not yet.

"And… I do believe it's your birthday, your majesty."

_Coward. _He thought to himself.

"I do believe you're right, Captain," She replied, flirting with him easily.

"What say you to a celebration of sorts, here, this afternoon?" She smiled at him coyly.

"I say yes."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rumplestiltskin was desperate. Perhaps more desperate than he'd ever been in his entire life, which made him perhaps the most dangerous man in the world at that particular moment. His circumstances were such that all of his threatening and deal-making and vows of vengeance were teetering on the edge of a knife - as was his reputation for follow through.

The Princess had escaped with the help of a nameless man. And though Rumplestiltskin pulled every string he could find, there was no solid information to be found about him. His network of spies and all his armies had failed to produce even the slightest scrap of evidence where the two fugitives could have gone. The Princess also had the protection of some enchantment which made it impossible for him to locate her - although he had tried every variation of the spell he knew.

And now his fiercest enemy had been set free. By him, of all people. She would surely be working against him; plotting his failure and ultimate demise.

Perhaps worst of all, he was out of time. Today was Princess Emma's twenty-first birthday. Today, he had to follow through on his threats, to uphold his end of the magically binding contract he'd signed with the King and Queen. If he didn't, it would be considered null and void by all the laws of the land and of magic.

It was times like this that he was forced to become creative. And creativity paired with desperation and limitless power and resources makes for a most fearsome combination.

"What are you brooding about?" came the soft voice of his servant, Belle.

"Good. You're here," He said, standing up from his spot at the large dining table which was currently covered end-to-end in very old books. He whipped out a scrap of parchment and handed it to her. "I need you to find these items. You should be able to locate them all in the palace gardens or the edge of the woods just beyond the gate."

Belle surveyed the list.

"Should be simple enough. This looks like a locator spell, but there's more here that I don't understand-"

"I didn't ask you to understand!" He barked, cutting her off. Her eyes flashed indignation and she set her jaw and took a deep breath through her nose. He sighed and crossed the room to her, "Forgive me, Belle. It's just that I'm in a terrible hurry. I need you to find all of these ingredients as quick as you can."

There were a lot of things she would have liked to say to him at that moment.

She chose to say none of them.

"Fine," She replied curtly, heading for the door.

"Belle?" He called after her. She condescended to look at him over her shoulder, which she felt was more than he deserved in that particular moment.

"Thank you," He said, his tone soft, almost broken.

It was the brokenness in his voice more than the 'thank you' that disarmed her so effectively.

"You're welcome," She replied, giving him a weak smile as she went to fetch the items he clearly needed so desperately.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Killian had ordered the finest meal he could manage from the galley on such short notice. Tender meats and cheese and fresh fruit - even a rich chocolate mousse. He'd been down to the ship's hold and combed through the treasure chests he'd procured from the days he'd spent earning Captain Hook's reputation as a ruthless pirate. He settled on the loveliest circlet he could find - gold, like her hair - comprised of simple but elegant scroll work and trimmed with small precious stones. Killian didn't know if they were ruby or garnet - but they were red, like that silly satin ball gown she'd worn to the simple dinner they'd shared together when they first met.

He'd decided it would be best to have lunch together since he knew he'd be expected to make an appearance at dinner with his men; to regale them with fanciful tales of his adventures on land while he'd been away from them. He hoped that later, Emma would join him on deck when he took his turn at the wheel and he could teach her how to navigate just by looking at the stars.

Killian Jones had never considered himself a romantic, but it came to him easily enough, much to his surprise.

When he entered his cabin and found her sound asleep on his bed, he felt his heart stop, just for a moment. She was so beautiful - stretched across his mattress, her golden hair splayed about her on the pillow, his deep red comforter drawn around her, and the most serene expression on her face.

_I am the luckiest bastard in all the world, _He thought, smiling as he gazed upon her.

He went about his work quietly, laying out the spread on the table with great precision and care so as not to disturb her, even decanting a bottle of red wine he'd been saving for years. He lit a pair of tall candles in the center of the table and stood back to admire his work. It wasn't a feast _quite_ fit for royalty, but he knew she'd love it all the same.

He woke her gently. She smiled up at him lazily as he leaned over her on the bed.

"Good morning," She said, beaming at him.

"Good afternoon," He corrected, chuckling. "It's mid-day, love. You've been sleeping the day away."

"This is such a lovely bed," She replied, snuggling herself against him as he sat beside her.

"Aye. The loveliest bed on the ship. I earned this bed by serving many years in His Majesty's Royal Navy," He smiled when he saw her trying to go back to sleep, "And you have earned it by being the bravest and most fearsome warrior Princess the realm has ever known."

She laughed out loud at that.

"Hardly," She replied, sitting up, "I do believe that title goes to my mother."

He smiled and cupped her cheek in his hand.

"I highly doubt that."

He placed a gentle kiss on her lips and pulled back to look into her bright green eyes.

"I thought you might be hungry..." He began. She looked at the table and gasped.

"Killian! That can't all be for me!"

"Well, I had hoped you would share."

She smacked him playfully. He laughed and scooped her up in his arms, "Come M'lady, your presence is much desired at the feast."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: This was originally the first half of one super ultra long chapter. It's not a cliffhanger ending like I tend to prefer, but I figured you'd appreciate me taking my time with plot development rather than rushing things along.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I know the last chapter was fairly tame, mostly just plot progression and moving my characters into place, but I promise this one won't be.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Belle had returned in record time from the scavenger hunt her master had sent her on.

The Dark One had spent the entire time trying to come up with as many plans as possible to find the Princess before the day was out. Some were innocuous, others far from it. He resolved to pursue every single one before the day was out. If he was going down, it wouldn't be without a fight.

She watched with rapt attention while he concocted a potion which, to her eyes at least, looked as though it might produce a very complicated locator spell. She watched as he poured it over the large map of the realm, saw the illustrated lines of the borders and boundary waters glow and pulse rhythmically - like a heartbeat.

"I've never seen a map do that before," She stated rather matter-of-factly.

"No, I'm sure you haven't," He replied, "I just created it. It's a locator spell on infinite loop. It will keep casting and re-casting itself until it finally locates the Princess."

"You're going to an awful lot of trouble to find her," Belle said, rising from her seat and walking around the room. "Perhaps she doesn't want to be found."

And then it came to him. It was the most despicable plan he'd thought of so far; so despicable that he had to take a full minute to count the risks. But no matter the cost, his life and reputation were on the line.

And when it comes to love or power, Rumplestiltskin will always choose power.

"I might have thought so as well," He began with a sigh, "But then I uncovered some rather unsettling information from the Queen." (

"Oh?" Belle prodded, her heart full of wonder and concern.

"You see, there's a man traveling with the Princess. Someone the King and Queen entrusted to protect Emma. But he's turned against them. Betrayed them. He's holding the Princess captive, somehow hidden her with magic." He began to pace the room, folding his hands, "I have learned that he intends to sell her to the highest bidder at some secret location. Tonight, on her twenty-first birthday."

"Well, wouldn't that be the King and Queen?" Belle asked. Rumplestiltskin laughed his signature maniacal laugh.

"The kingdom doesn't have that kind of money! The King and Queen barely collect any taxes at all! Do you know how many years it's taken the economy to begin to recover from the Ogre Wars?"

In truth, Belle knew a great deal about the Ogre Wars, her own mother and childhood home having been claimed by the terrible destruction that had nearly decimated the kingdom. She knew only too well the benevolence of their King and Queen - how they'd invested countless resources, financial and otherwise, in rebuilding and restoring the Kingdom to its former glory.

"But what about you?!" She cried, "You can spin straw into gold! Surely you of all people could come up with enough money to save her!"

She had him there. Or at least she would have if she weren't talking to the most cunning creature that ever breathed upon the earth.

"Yes," He replied, hanging his head and hugging himself, "But I would have to spin all night long and by then it would be too late. She would belong to some pirate king, sure to be despoiled and left for dead on some deserted island. Or kept under lock and key until the King and Queen died, then forced to assume the throne under the spell of an evil sorcerer. Who knows what they could do to the kingdom then." He sighed, staring out the window at the rolling sea below. "I just wish there was some way I could help her."

Belle's heart broke at the thought of the poor Princess Emma being manipulated like that. And she herself had overheard the Queen's own lamentations about sending their beloved daughter away with the handsome stranger. It was just too tragic for words. She placed arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder - hoping the contact would bring some comfort to his sorrow.

And then it hit her like lightning.

"Would a name help?" She asked, her eyes bright and full of hope. "I overheard the Queen talking about him - the man they trusted to protect Emma when the castle was under attack."

Rumplestiltskin felt like he'd just struck gold.

"It would!" He said, turning around to face her, grasping her arms in his hands. "If I know his name, I can track him down."

"His name is Killian Jones," She replied, beaming.

"Belle, you're a genius!" He cried in triumph before drawing her in and kissing her lips a little too hard.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Killian and Emma were so full of delicious food, they could hardly move. The last five days of living on apples and biscuits and hurried meals in taverns had taken their toll. Were Killian a wiser man, he would have chosen lighter fare for their feast. But his desire to spoil her with the best his humble galley had to offer had won out and Emma, though uncomfortably full, was grateful for the effort.

"Just think, a couple days ago, we were in a dusty underground cavern, sleeping on bedrolls in the dirt," He said, leaning back in his chair.

"I didn't mind," She said, smiling, "The company was pleasant."

She pushed herself to standing, using the arms of her dining chair for support, and made her way over to him, depositing herself gently in his lap.

"Mmm," He replied appreciatively, taking her in his arms, "I much prefer our present situation."

"Oh, so do I," She said, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He moved his lips against hers lazily, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth, the wine making him bolder with her settled in his lap. Emma pressed herself closer to him, grinning as she felt his tongue dart out to touch her lips, as if asking permission to enter. She obliged.

Suddenly it was all too much for Killian. He could feel his desire for her growing and he broke the kiss, knowing she wasn't ready, no matter how many eloquent lies the wine tried to make their bodies believe.

"Lucky my parents sent you instead of Anton," She said, breaking the silence with a laugh.

"Lucky we got your mother's cloak back," He replied, leaning in to kiss her again, despite his better judgment.

"Wait, what?" She said, pushing away, her hand resting firmly on his chest.

"The cloak. I put it on you when we were leaving the Queen Anne's Revenge this morning. Don't you remember?"

Emma did not remember. At least, she remembered a cloak, but she thought it must have been her heavy brown cloak. It had never occurred to her that Kilian would try anything so foolish as double-crossing Blackbeard.

"You stole the cloak from Blackbeard?!" She said, breathlessly.

"Well, technically, I stole it _back_ from Blackbeard, since he stole it from you."

"Killian, how can you be so careless?!"

That struck a chord.

"Careless?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her, "Pardon me, Princess, but when in all the time you've known me have I ever done anything that led you to believe I didn't care about your safety and well-being above all else?"

"When you stole from the most infamous pirate in the realm!" She shouted, popping up from his lap. "He's going to come after us!"

"He's _not _going to come after us, love," He said gently, taking her hand in his, "Calm down."

"Don't call me that!" She spat, throwing his hand away. He blinked, wounded. "And don't tell me what to do!"

Emma didn't know what had come over her. Perhaps the wine, perhaps the intensity of her affections for this man. She couldn't be sure, but for the first time in days, Emma's heart and head began arguing with each other again.

_He has no true regard for you. He doesn't even respect you enough to hear what you have to say - just dismisses it the second the words leave your lips. He treats you like a child._

_Stop it, _Her head rebuked,_ You've had too much wine. You're __acting__ like a child. You're going to regret this. _

_You know it's true. He won't even kiss you properly. Not since you got scared in the cave._

Her head had no response for her heart's newest revelation.

_You know I'm right. He doesn't want you. _

While Emma's heart and head were busying arguing with each other, Killian was growing angrier by the moment.

_How could she be so blind, so self-absorbed? Doesn't she know that everything I've done in the last few days has been for her welfare, her good? How I'd never do anything to put her in danger? Doesn't she know how much I love her? How I'd do anything to protect her? _

And then, Killian's heart, still wounded from the words that Emma felt at least half-sure she didn't mean, began whispering the same old story he'd been hearing his whole life.

_It's not enough. It will never be enough. _

_You're__ not enough. You will never be enough. _

_You don't deserve her. She's too good for you. And she knows it. _

"Perhaps you think you'd be better off without me," were the words Killian said as he threw his hands in the air.

_I don't want you. Leave,_ were the words Emma heard in her mind.

"Perhaps I will."

Emma grabbed the pendants hanging around her neck and yanked hard, the chain's clasp easily breaking and she threw the necklace at him before storming out of his cabin and slamming the door behind her.

Killian stood there with his jaw hanging open.

"What in the bloody hell just happened?" He said aloud to himself.

He cursed the wine, scooped the necklace up off the floor, and hurried after Emma, determined to make amends.

"Emma, wait!" He called as he made his way through the door.

What he saw on the other side made his blood run cold and his face go white as a sheet.

The Dark One. Standing on board his ship. One glittering arm wrapped tight around Emma's tiny waist while the other held a long, curvy dagger to her throat.

And then, before Killian could even draw his sword, the two vanished into thin air.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Reviews make for a faster posting of the next chapter.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Are we all freaking out yet? Ok good. :)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Perhaps you think you'd be better off without me," were the words Killian said as he threw his hands in the air.

_I don't want you. Leave,_ were the words Emma heard in her mind.

"Perhaps I will."

Emma grabbed the pendants hanging around her neck and yanked hard, the chain's clasp easily breaking and she threw the necklace at him before storming out of his cabin and slamming the door behind her.

Killian stood there with his jaw hanging open.

"What in the bloody hell just happened?" He said aloud to himself.

He cursed the wine, scooped the necklace up off the floor, and hurried after Emma, determined to make amends.

"Emma, wait!" He called as he made his way through the door.

What he saw on the other side made his blood run cold and his face go white as a sheet.

The Dark One. Standing on board his ship. One glittering arm wrapped tight around Emma's tiny waist while the other held a long, curvy dagger to her throat.

And then, before Killian could even draw his sword, the two vanished into thin air.

"No!" He cried, falling to his knees as he stared at the now empty deck before him, his crew safely below deck, enjoying their lunch.

Mr. Smee was the only one to have witnessed the affair, having seen it all from his place at the wheel.

"Captain, was that-"

"The Dark One," Killian replied, running his shaking hands through his hair, "That it was, Mr. Smee." He dusted himself off as he got back to his feet again, climbing the short ladder to the quarter deck just behind him. He relieved Mr. Smee of his duties at the wheel. "Go, Smee. Take some refreshment and rest, tell the men to prepare the ship for battle."

"Where are we heading, Captain?" Smee asked, knowing better than to argue.

"The Dark Castle."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Though Emma had not stopped wrestling with the shackles around her wrists since the Dark One had placed them there, they were just as cold and unyielding as ever.

She collapsed to the floor, exhausted, and let the tears fall freely.

She did this to herself.

She let her heart lie to her. She believed the lies and let them drive her away from her beloved Captain, her hero. Perhaps worst of all, in her fit of anger, she'd foolishly thrown away the most precious gift anyone had ever given her. And now, she was paying for it.

_No, _she thought, _worst of all is that right now, Killian is probably blaming himself for this. _

She was right, of course.

It was because of that - the knowledge that he would be, even now, carrying the guilt that ought to have been her burden to bear - that she knew she had to escape. She had to make it out of this prison cell alive, find Killian, and tell him how she really felt.

Emma could not afford to give up.

She would fight with everything she had to free herself from this prison cell and make her way back to him. She owed him that, at least.

"RUMPLESTILTSKIN!" She cried, banging her manacles on the door for extra volume.

No reply.

"RUMPLESTILTSKIN!" She tried again, louder this time.

She drew in a deep breath, preparing to scream it at the top of her lungs.

"Yes, yes, I heard you, I'm here. No need for all that noise," He said, appearing out of nowhere behind her.

"I want to make a deal."

"Oh-ho-ho!" The sly old sorcerer laughed, "Is that so? Well, dearie, do tell!"

"I want my freedom," She said, "Or at least to not be bound in chains up here in this freezing cold tower."

"Would you rather be bound in chains in the Dungeon?" He asked cheerfully, raising his hands as if preparing to send her there.

"No! Please! I'll do anything you want," She begged, "It's just that I'm so afraid of tight spaces like this, I feel as if I can't breathe."

Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow at her.

"So. You want to roam the castle freely?"

"Yes, sir," She replied, keeping her tone as respectful and calm as she could manage. "Perhaps I can help with chores?"

"I already have a maid," He said, disappearing in a puff of smoke.

"WAIT!" She cried, "I- I have information!"

"What sort of information?" He hissed, reappearing, his face inches from hers.

"Information about your worst enemy," She replied, wringing her hands, "About Blackbeard."

For a moment, Rumplestiltskin stopped breathing.

The only way this girl could possibly know about the rivalry between him and the pirate Captain would be if she'd seen the man in the flesh in the last few days. The rivalry was a great secret, neither man wanting to admit their own shame in what they'd done or their responsibility for the precious life that had been taken. And Rumplestiltskin knew very well that the Princess had been kept safe within the castle walls until a few days ago.

Not to mention, he had found her on a ship.

"Very well," He replied, "Freedom to roam the castle in exchange for information about the pirate Blackbeard."

"And my cloak," She added. He narrowed his eyes at her. "This castle is freezing."

"_And your cloak_," He mimicked, sneering at her, "Anything else you'd like to add, your majesty?"

Emma shook her head no, backing away from him. She put a pretty brave face on, but in truth, the Dark One standing so close to her was almost enough to scare her to death.

"Good. Now. Tell me what you know about Blackbeard."

"He-he's sailing near the Maritime Kingdom on the Queen Anne's Revenge, looking for allies."

"Allies for what?" He hissed, stepping closer to her.

"He's trying to find me. He wants to ransom me back to my parents just to spite you."

"Is that so?" Rumplestiltskin said, backing her into a corner.

"He said he'll see you ruined just as you ruined him and then take back what you stole from him." She stammered, trying desperately to create some space between herself and the truly appalling creature that seemed to enjoy unnerving her so.

Rumplestiltskin stopped dead in his tracks.

"He _threatened_ my love?"

Emma hadn't meant any such thing. In fact, she'd been making up the most plausible lies she could think of, throwing out what she could, hoping that something would strike a chord.

And it did.

"Y-y-yes," She lied, her eyes bright and wide and full of fear.

Rumplestiltskin growled and turned away from her. If Blackbeard knew about his plans with Emma, then it stood to reason he must know about Belle, although he couldn't quite figure out _how_. Rumplestiltskin thought he'd been so careful to keep his affections for her a secret. But he had no reason to believe Belle had done the same.

_It doesn't really matter, _Rumplestiltskin thought, _He's too big a threat to ignore. _

"You've earned your freedom, girl. You may roam wherever you like except for the West Wing." He didn't miss the look of relief on her face. He waved his hand and her cloak appeared, draped over his arm, "But don't wander off too far, dearie. I have big plans for your twenty-first birthday celebration tonight."

She could hear the thinly veiled threat in his voice. It made her shudder to think what sort of awful things he might have in store for her.

With a wave of his hand, they were standing in what looked to Emma like a giant gallery - richly decorated with the finest tapestries and draperies and the walls were lined with all manner of items she couldn't even begin to discern. Emma took the cloak from him and felt the chains still hanging from the iron cuffs on her wrists.

"Hey! I thought you said I'd earned my freedom?"

"You didn't ask for the chains to be removed. It wasn't part of the deal. You should have chosen your terms more carefully," He said, sneering at her, before disappearing down the hall.

Once Emma was sure he was gone, she ran over to the table, found a scrap of parchment and a fountain pen. She scribbled something down quickly and placed it on top of a book he'd left face open on the table.

Then, she put on her cloak - her mother's green cloak - and seemed to disappear into thin air.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Killian had arrived at the shore near the Dark Castle in record time. From the looks of the sky, he had a few hours before sunset. Just a few more hours to find a way to sneak into the castle, rescue the Princess, and hopefully escape without having to face the Dark One.

He knew the Dark One's reputation for showmanship and bravado. He was certain whatever foul plans he had in mind for Emma, they'd take place before the day was out.

_I'll die before I'll let him harm her. _

There was no time to waste.

Running on sheer adrenaline and the love he had for Emma, he scaled the crumbling castle walls in almost complete silence. He climbed the tallest tower, certain that would be the place the foul creature would hide her.

He was right, of course.

Or at least he would have been just an hour earlier.

As it happened, all Killian found in the tower was an empty cell, the door still hanging open, and no sign of Emma anywhere. He dug his brother's necklace out of his haversack and pulled it on over his head. Then he took a deep breath before drawing his hunting dagger from his boot and began his search through the castle.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rumplestiltskin was deeply paranoid. He kept going over the details of all the things Emma had told him about Blackbeard. He analyzed them and re-analyzed them and drew every possible conclusion he could from the little she had shared with him. It all made perfect sense.

He decided the safest plan would be to move Belle and all his most precious items to the magical prison he'd built in the dungeon of the Royal Palace. Surely Blackbeard would never think to look there. Once they were safe, he'd finish his part of the deal with the King and Queen. And once Emma's fate had been sealed, he'd either join Belle at the Royal Palace or find a better hiding spot. Sure, they'd be refugees on the run from - well, everyone - but at least they'd be together. Belle would just have to adjust.

His late wife would have called it _cowardice_.

He liked to call it _preparedness_.

His plan set, he left the castle immediately to find Belle and seal her safely in the dungeon. He only hoped she wouldn't put up too much of a fight. He would need to save all his energy for Emma's birthday surprise.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Killian was exhausted. He had explored the entire castle and seen no sign of Emma or the Dark One for that matter. He'd finally made it into a large gallery of sorts, arrayed with all manner of finery. There was a long, ornate table in the center of the room - the kind of table Killian would have expected the Royal Family to use at the supper he'd attended. There were books and papers and maps and bottles and herbs spread all across the surface. He rushed over to peruse them, hoping perhaps he might find some clue to what the Dark One had in mind and where his beloved Princess might be.

That's when he saw it.

A note on a scrap of parchment ripped hastily from a nearby book.

_You said I'd earned my freedom. That I could go __anywhere__ except the West Wing. _

_You should have chosen your terms more carefully. _

Killian couldn't help the smile that spread wide across his face.

Emma had escaped. The fact that he'd been searching for her in all the wrong places hardly seemed to matter. If she was gone without the Dark One's knowledge, she was safe.

He crumpled the note in his hands, holding it close to his chest as he closed his eyes, and kissed it as if it were a precious, holy relic.

"Don't worry, Emma, I will find you," He said, staring out the window at the sun dipping low in the sky.

"Why yes, dearie!"

For the second time that day, Killian Jones felt his blood run cold at the sound of the lilting voice coming from behind him.

"I believe you will."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Are we all still freaking out? Any speculations about what kind of "special birthday surprise" the Dark One has for Emma? I'll just say this. If he pulls it off, it'll be a real gut wrencher.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Well friends. We are nearing the end of the story. We've also reached the place where I'm no longer 2-3 chapters ahead of you with the writing, in fact, I've barely begun the next chapter - which means the updates may be a bit slower in coming. Stay with me, keep pushing me, I'll churn 'em out as best I can. Thank you all for your encouragement and support!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

That's when he saw it.

A note on a scrap of parchment ripped hastily from a nearby book.

_You said I'd earned my freedom. That I could go __anywhere__ except the West Wing. _

_You should have chosen your terms more carefully. _

Killian couldn't help the smile that spread wide across his face.

Emma had escaped. The fact that he'd been searching for her in all the wrong places hardly seemed to matter. If she was gone without the Dark One's knowledge, she was safe.

He crumpled the note in his hands, holding it close to his chest as he closed his eyes, and kissed it as if it were a precious, holy relic.

"Don't worry, Emma, I will find you," He said, staring out the window at the sun dipping low in the sky.

"Why yes, dearie!"

For the second time that day, Killian Jones felt his blood run cold at the sound of the lilting voice coming from behind him.

"I believe you will."

"Dark One," Killian began, spinning around and drawing his sword, "What have you done with my love?"

Rumplestiltskin let out a squeal of delight.

"Your love, is she? Well, as you can see, she's not here."

"Where is she?" Killian said slowly through gritted teeth, taking a step closer to the golden creature and pointing his sword directly at its chest.

"Not so fast, dearie," The Dark One replied, waving his hand and freezing Killian in place. He tried to struggle, but it was as if his feet and arms were frozen in place.

_Well, that was over quickly._ Killian thought, lamenting his own inevitable fallibility against such a foe.

"It seems our little Princess has outplayed me at my own game," Rumplestiltskin began, taking the note from Killian's fist and glancing at it before tossing it on the floor.

"She is the wisest and bravest woman I've ever known. You would do well to fear her."

Rumplestiltskin giggled as he looked over his enchanted map which, once he'd successfully found and captured Emma, had lost its glow. Apparently, the spell had not re-cast itself when she escaped. He knew he didn't have time to gather the special ingredients and start again, not with the sun hanging so low in the sky.

"And let me guess, that's what makes you love her," Rumplestiltskin mocked him in a sing-song voice, leering at him.

"Aye. That and a thousand reasons more. But no creature with a heart half as dark as yours could ever understand the depth of the love I have for her."

"Perfect!" He exclaimed with a joyful clap.

Then he plunged his fist into Killian's chest and ripped out his heart.

Killian stared in utter disbelief at the glowing, pulsing _thing_ in front of him. It looked far more like some kind of magical jewel than an internal organ. But he knew without a doubt, it was his own heart. A little rough around the edges, a little darkness in the corners, but glowing bright red - like Emma's satin ball gown - and pulsing with every breath he took.

With a wave of his hand, Rumplestiltskin released Killian's arms and legs from whatever spell had been holding them captive.

"If you really love her, you'll know exactly how to find her. And now that I have your heart, I expect a little more cooperation from you."

"Never," Killian spat, his eyes aflame. Although he still couldn't manage to muster an attack against the Dark One, who was standing, unarmed, mere inches away.

"You don't understand, dearie. So long as I hold your heart, you will do exactly as I say. You will follow my every command. You will even speak the words I tell you to speak."

"I'll never help you," Killian replied through his teeth.

"Your wish is my command, Dark One," were the words Rumplestiltskin spoke into the heart he held in his hands. They were the same words Killian heard coming from his own mouth, unbidden by him.

His eyes went wide in fear and wonder.

Rumplestiltskin let out a gleeful little shriek.

"Now. You will go and find your one true love, your precious Princess Emma. Once you find her, you will lead her to the location on this map. You will tell her nothing of our meeting. Only that you set out to find her and so you did."

"You're going to use me to lure her to her death? You would force me to betray my love?"

"Who said anything about death?" Rumplestiltskin said, clasping his hands together, "Don't you know, my boy? In this world, there are so many things that are _far_ worse than death."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma had covered a good amount of ground since her escape from the Dark Castle.

_Not as much as I would if Killian were here,_ she thought.

Emma sighed. She didn't understand how she could have fallen in love so quickly with a man she'd only just met. Perhaps that was why she felt she couldn't trust her feelings.

But she missed him so. And in truth, she knew her biggest fear right now was not what the Dark One would do to her if she were found, but the very real possibility that she might never see Killian again. She might never get to tell him how she felt. And he would spend the rest of his life blaming himself for her disappearance.

It was the last thought - the thought of Killian's unhappiness - that Emma found hardest to bear. It drove her to run faster, push harder, put as much distance between herself and the Dark One as she could.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Killian set off from the Dark Castle entrance and began following the freshest tracks he could find. They led off into the woods.

He didn't want to follow them. If anything, he wanted to run in the opposite direction. But a force stronger than himself was propelling him forward, as if his legs themselves were the enemy.

The tracks were leading him toward a rocky ridge that started off small at first and then grew ever taller. If he was right, Emma was probably hoping she could follow it back to Mr. Hopper's Inn. It would be a day's journey on foot, but she would make it.

_Faster! _He heard a voice hiss in his head. _I want her found before sundown. _

Killian doubled his pace to try to catch up to her. He had a few more hours of daylight. He could only hope for her sake it wasn't enough.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma was tired. Her arms and wrists were aching from the weight of the manacles the Dark One hadn't bothered to remove. She decided that if she was to continue, she'd have to find a way to get them off. She sat down on a fallen tree near the rocky ridge she'd been following, which now looked much more like bluffs.

She found a large, pyramid-like rock and placed it before her. She shut her eyes tight and tried banging the metal cuff down on top of the point. It made a loud noise, but accomplished nothing. She tried again and again and again.

The rock tumbled off the log and onto its side. Emma clenched her jaw and set it back on the log. Determined, she tried again and again until the noise of iron striking metal grew so loud, she felt sure the Dark One himself could hear it in his castle miles away.

It didn't matter.

She had to be free.

She had to find Killian.

The tip of the rock broke off completely and Emma cried aloud in frustration and hurled the rock at the bluffs. She put her face in her tired hands, felt the blood rolling down her forearms, and fought the urge to weep.

"Swan!" She heard a familiar voice call from the distance.

Emma sat bolt upright.

"Hook!" She called back, looking around frantically.

They went on like that. Calling each other's names in the forest, moving ever closer to the sound of the other one's voice, like some sort of childish game, until at last they found each other.

"Swan!" He cried, feeling like his heart might burst at the sight of her. She ran at him full speed and meant to throw her arms around his neck, but the manacles she wore were unforgiving. Instead, he caught her in his arms and spun around to try to dissipate the force of her running into him, but failed, and they fell to the ground in a heap of desperate kisses and touches and sighs of relief.

"Oh Killian," She said, breathlessly, touching his face with shaking hands, "I can't believe it's you! How did you find me?"

"I followed you to the Dark One's castle. Found your note. And then I followed your tracks into the woods," He answered in a way that seemed a bit too matter-of-fact for him.

"Oh you did, did you?" She answered, laughing at his lack of animation. "Kiss me again, you clever boy!" She demanded, pressing her lips to his. He rolled them onto their sides and obliged.

But it felt... _different_ somehow.

"Wait- what's this?" Killian asked, breaking the kiss and feeling the iron pressing against his chest.

"Courtesy of the Dark One," She said with a sigh, holding up her wrists so he could see them better.

"Emma!" He cried reproachfully, seeing the blood trickling slowly down her forearms.

She shrugged.

"I had to try to get them off. They were weighing me down and they're so painful."

"I suppose that was the clanging sound I heard in the woods?" He replied, sitting up and digging in his haversack.

"Yes," She admitted, a little sheepishly.

Killian retrieved a lock pick from his bag and began his work on the small lock built into the iron cuff on her right arm. He made quick work of them both and Emma couldn't help the warmth she felt pooling in her belly as she gazed at his strong, capable hands.

She couldn't wait to see what other delightful things he could manage with them.

"Thank you," She replied, a little flustered. He looked up at her and smiled. He dug out his waterskin and some bandages from his haversack and cleaned her up.

_Enough already! She's fine!_ He felt the Dark One impressing in his mind. Killian gritted his teeth with the effort of pushing back.

_If you don't want to be exposed, you'll let me do this. She knows I'd never just ignore her injuries and let her bleed. _

He didn't sense any response from the Dark One, but he noticed his fingers working more quickly about the task of cleaning and binding her wounds. _Small victories,_ he thought to himself, hoping that maybe this was a sign he could somehow use to his advantage.

"Come on," He said, placing a kiss on each of her wrists once his work was finished, "We can't stay here, it's too open. I think I know a place we can hide nearby." He stood up and looked at the map in his haversack.

_No_, he thought, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth as he saw the location the Dark One had marked on the map.

_Oh yes_, he heard the Dark One reply in his head.

"Come along, Swan. It's not far."

Killian heard the words from his own lips, in his own voice, but they weren't his. His hand took Emma's and his legs marched forward without his permission.

And with that, he led them deeper into the woods.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Back at the Royal Palace, Belle was fuming.

_He locked me in a dungeon. _

_With no explanation._

_But with all his most prized possessions. _

_Stupid wizard, _She thought, smashing something expensive looking on the floor.

Clearly, Rumplestiltskin had never heard that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

"Isn't that just like him?" Came a voice from outside her cell. Belle flocked to the door, grasping the bars and peering around the corner.

"Who said that? Who's there?!" She called into the dimly lit hallway. A figure dressed all in black came waltzing into view. "The Evil Queen?" Belle whispered, covering her mouth with both hands, shock and awe and terror seizing her heart all at once.

"Hardly a queen anymore," She replied with a sigh, "So for now, you may call me Regina."

Belle could not think of a single thing to say. How often does one find themselves trapped at the mercy of an Evil Queen? And how foolish would they have to be to actually call her an Evil Queen? She might as well have called her the Old Usurper and signed her own death certificate. None of them seemed mutually exclusive courses of action in light of her present circumstances.

"Not too chatty, are you?" Regina said, sneering, "Probably why he likes you."

"Is that why you've come here? To make fun of me?"

"I suppose I have," She replied, resting her hands at her sides, "I wanted to see the Dark One's newest protege. I was one of his first, you know," She replied, preening.

"Protege? I'm not his protege, I'm his…" Belle struggled to find the word that would fit at the end of that particular sentence.

_Friend? Lover? Servant? _It troubled her that she couldn't come up with a name for the role she played in the life of this man she'd grown to have feelings for.

"Servant," She said, finally, deciding on the simplest term.

"Ohhhh, is that what he calls you?" Regina replied, walking right through the bars of Belle's prison cell as if they were made of smoke. Belle backed away from the sorceress, her eyes wide.

"I suppose it's a fair term for the role he's used you to play."

Belle could tell the Evil Queen was playing games with her. But something told her she wasn't lying.

"What do you mean?" Belle asked, timidly.

"Well, he used you to cast the locator spell to find the Princess - twice, as I recall - and then he manipulated you into helping him find the one man who was actually helping the Princess escape…"

"No, that man wasn't helping the Princess," Belle interrupted. Regina raised an eyebrow at her, "I mean - he _was_. But then he turned against her. He was going to hurt her."

Regina laughed at that, careful to keep her voice low for fear of any Redguard soldiers who could still be lurking in the castle.

"Did he really say that?" Belle nodded in reply. "And you actually_ believed_ him?"

Belle's blood ran cold.

"Do you know that Killian Jones, the man you betrayed to the Dark One, has been hand picked for that particular job since he was a child? And that he and the Princess are in love with each other? And that they had successfully escaped the Dark One and were on their way to another land to live happily ever after?"

With every word, Belle felt her heartbeat grow faster and faster; tears welling in her eyes. She didn't know. But she couldn't doubt it now. How could she? Even as the events were unfolding, she felt her own heart warning her to be careful not to trust him so easily, reminding her that Rumplestiltskin was a ruthless swindler who was obsessed with power and driven by unyielding selfishness.

"That is, until you betrayed them," Regina said, interrupting Belle's internal downward shame spiral.

"But Rumple said he wanted to help the princess! To save her!"

Regina laughed again, walking closer to Belle, who had her back pressed firmly against the wall of her prison cell.

"Save the princess? Hah!" She got right in Belle's face. "Emma is the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming - the product of true love _and_ the firstborn child of his enemies. Do you have any idea how much dark and powerful magic he could access with such a sacrifice?"

"Sacrifice?" Belle asked, her voice breaking.

"He's the Dark One, sweetie, not some handsome prince in disguise."

Belle crumpled to her knees and wept tears of bitter regret as she realised her own foolishness and naiveté.

"How did I not see?" She asked no one in particular, overwhelmed by the weight of her guilt.

"You didn't see because he didn't _want_ you to see. He's a master deceiver. He blinded you with his pretty lies."

Belle couldn't take any more. She wouldn't.

"I am _not_ his protege. And I will _not_ be his servant any more." She looked up at the Evil Queen from her spot on the dirt floor, her eyes hard and angry,

"Where is he?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Ok friends. Once more into the breach. I think we've got one chapter left after this and maybe an epilogue. Please show your appreciation in the little blank box below. Your reviews really do help me keep the creative juices flowing and the updates coming faster.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Killian was using all of his strength to fight against the magical influence the Dark One held over him. Despite all his effort, his legs were carrying him ever closer to the entwined tree he could see in the distance.

"Ouch!" Emma shrieked.

"What is it?" He asked, turning around quickly, eyes wide, frightened half to death that whatever the Dark One had planned for her had already begun.

"You're crushing my hand!" She cried, trying to pull away from him. Killian let go immediately.

He hadn't meant to. And he didn't feel the Dark One pressing him to squeeze her hand like that. He could only conclude that with all his straining against the Dark One's influence over him, he'd been clenching his fists accidentally.

"Apologies, love," He said softly, taking her in his arms and kissing her hair. "I don't know what came over me."

He took a moment, just to hold her, to breathe in the lovely scent of her as he watched the sun setting behind them, knowing they had only moments left together before the Dark One would be with them and Emma would at last be forced to face her fate.

And Killian would be forced to watch. Powerless.

He sighed and let his head fall back, feeling the tears threatening to fall, the lump growing in his throat.

"Killian, are you alright?" She asked, looking up at him. "You don't seem yourself."

"I'm just worried, lass," He replied, no longer sensing the Dark One speaking through him. "I'm worried about what the Dark One might be planning."

She took his face in her hands and gave him a sweet, reassuring smile.

"I'm not."

He looked into her eyes, shining brightly with all the love and hope and happiness he could hear echoing in her voice, and felt his heart break.

"I know," He replied. And his lips met hers in a passionate kiss, each of them letting their desperation and longing for one another be felt and known, yet still unspoken.

The kiss ended too soon; forced by the unyielding internal nudge of the Dark One.

"Come on," Killian replied, digging the rope out of his haversack and beginning the work of getting them safely up to their secret cave.

Once they'd made it safely in - with no acrobatics from Emma, this time - Killian felt himself drop to his knees against his will. It felt as if the Dark One was forcing him to carry, quite literally, the entire weight of the world on his shoulders and Killian found himself unable to bear it.

"Killian!" Emma cried, running over to him, "Are you alright?"

"He'll be fine, dearie," came an all-too familiar voice from behind her, "You, on the other hand…"

Without thinking, Emma drew her sword from it's sheath and pointed it in the direction of the threatening voice at the back of the cave.

"Show yourself, Dark One!" She cried.

Rumplestiltskin stepped out of the shadows and took a bow.

"As you wish, Princess," He replied, sneering at her, "You're awfully brave to point that thing at me. But then, he said as much."

"Who did?" She snapped.

"Your Captain, your pirate, your loverboy here. He told me you were wisest and bravest woman he'd ever known." He circled around her, "Brave, perhaps, but wise? Not so much."

"You- you led me here?" She stammered, looking at Killian, who was crumpled on the cave floor. "On purpose?" Rumplestiltskin squealed with glee.

"Of course he did! Not that he had any choice, poor fool," He replied, kicking Killian till he lay flat on his back. "I did take his heart."

_I should have known_, Emma thought, staring at Killian's almost motionless form on the ground. His eyes were wide; filled with remorse and concern.

"You give it back," She growled, narrowing her eyes at the Dark One.

"I'll do nothing of the sort," He replied, rounding on her.

She raised her sword higher and pointed it right at his neck.

"I bested you once, I can do it again!" She shouted, letting the threat echo in the cave and surround them.

"Oh please," Rumplestiltskin replied, snapping his fingers and making the hilt of the sword burn hotter than coal. Emma shrieked as she threw it to the ground, shaking her hands uselessly to relieve the pain.

"What do you want?" She asked, utterly out of options.

"To uphold my end of the bargain," He replied simply, walking past her to the entrance of the cave to watch the sun as it finally dipped below the horizon. "And now it's time."

He spun around to face her. With a wave of his hands, Emma felt herself wrapped in a surge of light and wind that lifted her up in the air as though she were completely weightless. It wasn't an altogether unpleasant feeling after running for days on end and nearly always sleeping on hard, rocky ground.

But then, starting at her toes, she began to feel her body slowly go numb.

Not just numb - hard, stiff. As if she were being slowly dipped and set in stone. She couldn't move her legs.

"Killian!" She cried - but it came out more like a whisper in the roaring wind that swirled around her. She felt the tears roll down her cheeks as she watched him lying on the floor, paralyzed, unable to save her.

_Just like he said he would be_, She thought, sadly.

In that moment, as she felt her hair whipping around her and her arms folding over her chest, her greatest desire was not to defeat the Dark One or escape his magic, but to tell Killian all the things she'd never had the chance to say. How she loved him more than he could possibly imagine, how it wasn't his fault, how he's so much stronger than he knows, how she would have happily spent the rest of her life with him in Arendelle, how that was the happiest ending she could ever have hoped for.

But there was no time.

"I'm sorry," were the words that came out just before she lost consciousness, her entire body now encased in a sarcophagus of clearest crystal.

Rumplestiltskin howled in triumph.

Killian could only stare, utterly crestfallen.

With another wave of his hand, Rumplestiltskin removed the whatever force was weighing the broken-hearted man down. And yet, Killian couldn't manage to find the will to get up.

"Oh, don't look so devastated, Captain. She's not dead."

"She's not?" Killian asked, wondering if he could even bother to hope as he tore his eyes away from the faint outline of the tomb which held his beloved Princess.

"Of course not!" The Dark One crooned, "You see, I've cast a very powerful sleeping curse on your precious Princess, one that will keep her locked safely in this fancy mausoleum I've created for her.

Rumplestiltskin sauntered over to the large and beautiful gemstone monument. With a flick of his wrist, the entire thing began to glow dimly from within, illuminating Emma's perfectly sculpted features with a beautiful, warm, opalescent light.

Killian pushed himself up to stand, mesmerized by what he saw before him. It had been too dark to see before, but now, he couldn't tear his eyes away. It was as if someone had found an enormous pillar of the most brilliant, precious diamond and carved it with expert skill into a perfect likeness of Emma - arms crossed, hands folded over her heart, eyes closed. Every detail of her frame, the drape of her cloak around her shoulders, even the way her hair fell in soft waves around her face - all seemed expertly crafted with great attention to detail.

Killian reached out to touch a lone tendril that just brushed the elegant curve of her neck. How he wished he'd run his fingers through those lovely tresses one more time before they'd turned hard and cold as stone.

"She'll live," He whispered to himself, aloud. Despite the tragedy of their current circumstances, there was comfort to be found in knowing Emma was alive and well protected in her tomb of clearest crystal.

"Oh-ho yes! She'll outlive us all!" Rumplestiltskin laughed. "She'll be trapped in that diamond prison for a thousand years!"

And just like that, Killian's comfort was gone.

"A thousand years?" He asked, incredulous, his voice breaking.

"That was the deal!" Rumplestiltskin laughed. "That'll teach anyone within range of the gossips of this kingdom to try and cross me."

Killian crumpled to his knees and buried his face in his hands.

Rumplestiltskin tried to restrain himself from giggling, but couldn't help the few little joyful titters that squeaked through his pursed lips as he saw the broken man kneeling before the statue on the cave floor.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you, Dearie?" Rumplestiltskin preened, "Love is _weakness_."

"No one ever told _me_."

Rumplestiltskin felt as if all the blood had been drained from his body at the sound of the voice which now spoke from just behind him. It was a familiar voice, to be sure, but he'd never heard it sound so cold before. He turned around slowly.

"Belle."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: I'm tagging a lot of things that happened in the last episode we saw. So many things inspired me there. And I am over the moon excited for the second half of this season! Happy five days til new OUAT everyone! Don't forget to leave a review if you're excited for the final chapter of this story.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you so much for sticking with me while I waited to churn out this last chapter. It was an emotional week and I couldn't fathom adding the magnitude of this drama to it!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rumplestiltskin tried to restrain himself from giggling, but couldn't help the few little joyful titters that squeaked through his pursed lips as he saw the broken man kneeling before the statue on the cave floor.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you, Dearie?" Rumplestiltskin preened, "Love is _weakness_."

"No one ever told _me_."

Rumplestiltskin felt as if all the blood had been drained from his body at the sound of the voice which now spoke from just behind him. It was a familiar voice, to be sure, but he'd never heard it sound so cold before. He turned around slowly.

"Belle."

"Stay right where you are," She commanded, drawing a crooked dagger from within the folds of her cloak. Against his will, Rumplestiltskin felt his body seize up. For the first time in his life as The Dark One, he knew how it felt to be completely at the mercy of another.

He didn't like it.

"You lied to me," She said, her eyes darting to the crystal statue of the Princess as she leveled the charge.

"Belle, please, I can explain," He pleaded.

"No more excuses. You will answer my questions honestly." She said, her eyes were hard, but she couldn't hide the trembling in her voice. She raised the dagger to eye level and began again, "I command you Dark One, tell me _truthfully_." The words stung the wretched creature more deeply than she knew, "Is this man on the floor Killian Jones?"

"Yes," Rumplestiltskin answered, against his will.

"And did he really betray the royal family?"

"N-no," He said, gritting his teeth.

"Did you know he was in love with her when you lied to me?" Her voice betrayed her - revealing the rush of emotion that was threatening to overtake her. "Did you know you were not only ruining their happiness, but putting the entire kingdom in jeopardy for your own name's sake?!"

"Y-yes," He stammered.

"And did you know I was in love with you when you used me to get to her?"

"Belle, please, I-"

"Answer me!" She cried, lunging forward, holding the dagger up to his face as if using it to accuse him further.

"Yes," He replied, hanging his head in shame.

"And still you lied to me. _Manipulated me!_" The tears were rolling freely down her cheeks now.

"Belle-" He began, his voice breaking, throat constricting.

"You will release the princess at once," She demanded, stuffing her feelings back down for the time being.

"I can't. It's a time-locked curse." He sighed, "She'll be trapped in there for a thousand years. There's nothing I can do."

Belle lowered the dagger as she let all the air out of her lungs with an audible puff of utter astonishment.

She was too late.

The Princess was trapped in a crystal sarcophagus for a thousand years.

The Captain was little more than a broken man at the foot of her beautiful, magic tomb.

And the man she had grown to love was a monster.

It was more than she could bear.

"Rumplestiltskin, I banish you from this land-"

"Belle, please!" He cried, interrupting her.

"You will leave this kingdom. Leave this realm to live in _peace_," She continued, her hand shaking as she lifted the dagger and took slow, calculated steps closer to him.

"Please, Belle," He pleaded, dropping to his knees before her, "I can change!"

"You have already changed," She replied, swallowing hard, "I once saw the man behind the beast," She paused, looking down into his pleading eyes before turning away, "Now there's only a beast."

With a wave of the dagger, she dismissed him.

And he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

She collapsed to the floor, unable to maintain her facade of composure another moment longer. The dagger clattered to the ground as she covered her face with her hands. Her body wracked, her chest heaved as she gasped for air, knowing she could no longer control the emotions she had been keeping on such a tight leash.

Killian looked at her and felt a deep sense of longing. Not for her. But for the way she was so obviously able to _feel_ the loss she'd suffered. 

There was no such comfort for him. Only emptiness.

The emptiness of his chest without a heart.

The emptiness of his arms without his beloved Emma to fill them.

The emptiness of his very soul - or so he thought.

Rather than communicating his envy or trying to comfort the clearly devastated maiden before him, he gave her the precious gifts of time and silence. After all, not even the fiercest warrior could be expected to recover from such bravery and loss so quickly.

"The King," She said, gasping, "The Queen!" Her eyes met his, "They must be told at once."

"Aye," He conceded with a nod before gazing back up at the crystalline likeness of his beloved, "But I'll not leave her."

Belle felt her heart break for the third time that day - the first, when the Queen had exposed the man she loved as a liar and master manipulator. The second, when her own love had confirmed her suspicions of his betrayal. But this time, for Killian's sake. And for Emma's.

To be on the receiving end of a love like that - a love that would not forsake it's object, even when all hope of being loved in return was lost - surely that was a treasure that came along only once in a lifetime. And surely not for everyone.

And likely not _ever_ for her.

"Of course," She replied, her voice dropping to little more than a whisper. "The Dark One's carriage is just outside. I'll make my way to the Royal Palace at once."

"Wait," He said, reaching for his haversack, pulling out a map and quickly fashioning a crude writing device with the kohl he'd used to line his eyes and disguise himself as the fearsome pirate Captain Hook. "Take this to the ship docked just beyond sight of the Dark One's castle. She's called the Jolly Roger. She's mine - fastest ship in the realm. There's a man on board called Smee who will sail you there much faster than you could make it by land."

Kilian could hardly believe the lackluster sound of his own voice. He was proud to be called the Captain of the Jolly - prouder than any other accomplishment he'd ever managed in all his life. And now, for perhaps the first time in all his days as a sailor, he couldn't even praise her speed without sounding utterly spiritless.

"Thank you," Belle replied, taking the note and holding his outstretched hand in both of hers for a moment, meeting his eyes in an attempt to communicate the empathy she felt for the depth of his sorrow.

But there was no light in the eyes of Killian Jones. Not anymore. Though they once shone bright and clear as crystal, now they seemed as vast and empty as the sea he called home.

She left him then to grieve in solitude. And he stared up at the faintly glowing form of the woman he loved.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Belle returned with the King and Queen faster than even Killian had thought possible.

_Smee must have abandoned the crew and driven the Jolly hard to have returned with them so quickly._

He watched as the King and Queen rushed to their daughter, who remained as still and serene as ever. He watched as they wept and wailed, frantically touching her face, her hands, her hair - seemingly desperate to feel the softness she no longer possessed.

She was cold and hard as stone.

Much like Killian felt.

It was an apt sort of doom for the pair of them to face.

And Killian was determined they would face it together.

Once he'd given the King and Queen time to grieve, he cleared his throat as he dropped to one knee before them.

"Your majesties," He began with a deep breath, "I know after failing you, I've no right to ask for any favors-"

"Oh, Killian," the Queen began to gush. But he raised his hand as if to beg permission to continue. The King nodded to grant it.

"I would like to become a member of the Redguard." He said, lacing his fingers behind his back. "I know I've done nothing to earn the right to such an honor, but I've been thinking about the curse - over and over again - and I feel certain it is the only way I'll be able to protect the Princess until she wakes and at last, fulfill my mission."

A stunned silence fell over the lot of them for a moment or two. Killian could only hope it meant they were taking his request seriously.

"You don't know what you're asking, Captain Jones," The King said, finally.

"Does it not require a sacred ritual of the darkest magic and the removal of both heart and soul?" He answered. King David blinked in surprise. This knowledge was kept as the very highest level of secrecy.

"Who told you such things?" The Queen demanded, her eyes narrowing in accusation.

Her husband, the King, placed a hand on her arm, as if to calm her.

"I learned many things in my time as the pirate Captain Hook," He replied, matter-of-factly, "I'm sure you can guess who would have shared such a secret with me."

"Blackbeard," David replied, sighing, "You must have demonstrated great loyalty to the crown to encourage that level of confidence from him."

"But you'll be an empty shell of a man," The Queen replied, her voice breaking, "With no heart, you'll feel nothing - a slave to your purpose as a soldier. Without your soul, you'll gain immortality, but you'll lose your voice. And not just the ability to speak, but to even _think!_ You'll be incapable of coherant thought - of any thought at all but guarding Emma."

"Your majesty, with all due respect, I am already incapable of any other thought."

It was then that Snow White was finally able to see in Killian Jones what her husband had been trying to tell her for years.

This was a man of undying loyalty, unyielding determination, and now - the deepest and truest form of self-sacrificial love that ever the King or Queen had seen. And he felt that for _their daughter_.

The Queen felt tears roll down her cheeks. She couldn't have hoped for a better companion for her Emma. She felt honored, blessed that such a man would choose to bestow the fullness of his love on her darling baby girl.

Ever the humble cabin boy, Killian could only suppose their silence to be hesitance to grant his most unusual request.

"And as it happens, the Dark One has already done the work of removing my heart. So the ritual's half done already."

"Not quite," Belle said, stepping forward from entrance to the cavern. She'd been waiting there, wanting to give them all the space and privacy they needed to grieve the loss of the princess. All three of them looked up at her as she dug into a satchel and pulled out a small, ornate box. "I found this," She explained, handing the box to Killian, "He locked me in the palace dungeon. With all his most priceless treasures."

"Deplorable man," Snow spat, shaking her head with disdain.

"Foolish man," David corrected, giving Belle a small, reassuring smile. She tucked her hair behind her ear and lowered her gaze. Truth be told, she'd barely managed to muster the confidence to come against the Dark One in such a bold and brazen manner. It would take some time for her to grow comfortable with the accolades she would receive for banishing the sorcerer who had long plagued the realm with his dark magic and treachery.

Killian stared down at the box in his hands in disbelief. With a flick of his thumb, he opened the little brass latch that sealed the box and opened the lid. Inside, lay his heart. Glowing, pulsing, just as it had been before, but looking admittedly a little darker and worse for wear.

"I-" He began to protest, but couldn't find a single word other than, "Thank you." This gift was priceless. And although it seemed macabre, there was a part of Killian that couldn't wait to feel the onslaught of emotion waiting for him within this orb of bright red and purple crystal. The love, the loss, the agony, the hopelessness, the grief. Even if only for a moment before the King and Queen turned him into a Redguard soldier and sealed his fate for all time.

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the King.

"I have a proposal," King David began, placing a firm hand on Kilian's broad shoulder, "I propose that we create a new order of sentinels whose sole purpose is the protection of the Princess." Try as he might, he still couldn't bring himself to say his daughter's name. It was just too painful - the searing loss, too fresh. "Silent and immortal like the Redguard, but you shall keep your heart," He said, meeting Killian's gaze, "For surely, it is your greatest strength. And our daughter would be most grieved to wake and know it was forever lost to her."

Killian's eyes softened in a silent lamentation that his heart remained in his hands rather than its rightful place in his chest. He felt quite sure that if it had been, it would have burst to hear Emma's father praise him so and to see her careful mother nodding in assent, smiling warmly as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

"What shall we call this order?" The Queen said, sniffling.

King David remained silent for a moment, captivated by the soft, warm glow radiating from his daughter's crystalline form. It seemed to have grown brighter somehow, perhaps from the rising of the sun behind them, but it seemed to him as if it were confirmation of their daughter's approval of this plan.

"The Order of the Dawnguard," King David said to his wife with a smile, letting the name inspire in him the hope he intended for it to bring others. He then turned to address Killian again, "And you shall be the Captain."

And so it was.

Killian's heart was restored to its rightful place by Queen Snow herself, of all people. And his soul was removed in the most sombre and surprisingly sentimental ceremony he could have imagined. His eyes went wide as he watched it slip away from him, knowing he'd never be able to thank Emma's parents properly for the trust they'd placed in him - for the precious gift of spending an eternity watching over the form his true love.

And then his mind went completely blank.

Only one thought remained.

Ironic that it was the very same thought that had remained firmly planted in his mind, deeply ingrained in every fiber of his being, from the moment he first laid eyes on her in the Royal Palace in that red satin ballgown.

_Protect the Princess with all your might. _

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: A very long one, to be sure. But you've earned it after waiting so long. And I couldn't leave you hanging in the middle of all that resolution. There will be one more chapter after this. A little more resolution for you. Your reviews will feed the muse.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: So I decided to take this in a slightly different direction than I originally planned. I think you'll like it as it will mean a few more chapters for you rather than ending it with an epilogue here. Thanks for all the reviews - they really do inspire me to write faster when I know there are people eagerly waiting for the next chapter!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As the years passed, Killian saw many things change from the place where he stood. Seasons came and went, some trees were felled while others grew taller. He didn't have the presence of mind to understand why, but his heart seemed to grow warmer and beat stronger in his chest every time the sweltering summer heat gave way to cool nights and warm days - just before the leaves began to change their colors.

The King and Queen had appointed only two other members to the Order of the Dawnguard. The Queen's personal bodyguard, the huntsman called Graham who had shown her mercy when the Evil Queen had ordered her execution, and Anton - the man who'd long served as Emma's personal bodyguard during her time spent in the Royal Palace.

Beyond the members of the Dawnguard, the King and Queen told no one of what had happened to their beloved daughter. They allowed the entire kingdom to believe she was lost forever to them - spirited away by the Dark One. Belle had sworn to keep the secret. And after all, it was true enough. By the time Emma woke from her deep, crystalline slumber, there would be no one left to remember the lost princess from the Enchanted Forest.

Only once had someone dared to enter the well-hidden cave, still concealed by the one large tree with two trunks wrapped around themselves, and even higher off the ground now than it was before - thanks to the way the rolling hills and terrain all around them had eroded over time.

The intruder was Admiral Blackbeard, of course. He'd only come to take shelter for the night, but he was much surprised to see the faintly glowing crystal sarcophagus which clearly resembled the lost princess. But having seen her, he was not at all surprised to find Killian standing watch by her side. He'd only approached to pay his respects to the only daughter of the most honorable man he'd ever known, but being that the members of the Dawnguard had lost the ability to speak or think of anything other than their one job, they attacked him as soon as he'd come within range.

His bones still lay on the cave floor just a few feet away from the crystal tomb. As did the bones of Anton and Graham, who'd both been killed in the fight. Killian surely would have mourned for the death of his old friend and mentor if he'd had the presence of mind to recognize the man he'd killed to defend the princess.

Before Blackbeard's visit, they had fallen into standing guard in shifts; two on, one off.

Afterward, Killian stood as a lone sentinel, forsaking his physical need for rest. He had learned to sleep with his eyes open. Standing. And only when absolutely necessary. He would never abandon his post. Even if he could.

At long last, on the 365,000th day, just as the sun began to hang low in the sky, the crystal tomb seemed to melt away like ice, revealing the softly sleeping princess beneath. Emma smiled at the loveliness of the feeling, imagining herself to be a bear in a cave, just waking up from hibernating for the winter. It was a funny sort of dream-like state. She stretched her arms over her head and smiled, thinking she'd have to tell Killian about her dream.

And then it hit her like a bolt of lightning.

Killian. The Dark One. The curse!

Her eyes snapped open.

"Killian!" She cried, frantically. Her eyes found him at last, standing by her side as he had for hundreds of years. She almost hadn't recognized him. Indeed she wouldn't have if his eyes hadn't been the first thing she'd seen. The handsome face she'd known and loved was nearly covered with a thick black beard and partially concealed by dark curtains of long, straggly hair on either side.

"My God, Killian. What happened to you?!" She exclaimed, turning to him, placing her hands on his broad shoulders.

He was utterly unresponsive. She would have questioned if he was even alive if she hadn't been able to hear his breath and see the steady rise and fall of his chest. She placed her hands on either side of his face and looked deeply into his crystal blue eyes.

He showed no sign of recognition beyond a slight softening of his eyes and the single tear that rolled down his cheek and disappeared in the mop of unruly facial hair.

"Are you...? You can't be." She thought, remembering the way she'd seen the Redguard soldiers stand in just that way outside the magical prison cell of the Evil Queen.

Emma tried everything to try to rouse her beloved Captain from his present state of half-consciousness. She kissed him till her lips bruised, pushed him, screamed in his ear, even slapped him right across the face. Nothing would rouse him. He was like a living statue, staring straight ahead.

Emma didn't know what had happened to him or how much time had passed since the Dark One had cast the spell that kept her a sleeping prisoner in the cave where she and her beloved pirate had first come to terms with their feelings for each other.

But she was determined to find out.

She found the length of rope in the old haversack still lying undisturbed on the cavern floor.

She took another look back at Killian, who remained as motionless as ever, and decided to take it with her. She slung the long leather strap over her shoulder and positioned the satchel comfortably on her hip. Then she made her way over to him, placing a soft kiss on his lips and letting her eyes slide shut as she pressed her forehead to his, wishing desperately that he would wrap his arms around her as he once did.

"I love you," She whispered, feeling the tears roll down her cheeks. She opened her eyes and looked deeply into his. "I will find out what he's done to you. And I will save you," She vowed, searching his eyes for some sign of recognition. She thought she'd seen something - a glimmer of hope perhaps. But she pushed the thought away. If he had in fact been turned into a Redguard soldier, she knew very well that the man she loved was long gone.

"It matters not," She said with a deep breath and a sense of finality, taking a step back from him and dropping her hands to her sides. "I will come back for you."

With that, she turned and headed for the entrance to the cave.

And then she heard the familiar sound of his boots scuffing the rocky ground behind her.

She turned and looked at him. His mental state seemed unchanged, but he had in fact followed her to the cave's entrance.

_My parents must have changed him into something like a Redguard to keep me safe_, She thought to herself. Though there was a certain light and consciousness in his bright blue eyes that was unlike the cold and vacant stare of the Redguard soldiers.

_At least he'll always be with me_, She thought, a sad smile on her face. There was a kind of comfort in the thought.

"Come on, Captain," She said, slinging the rope around the old branch that was how much lower than she remembered. She made her way safely down and waited for him to follow. She looked up at the orange sky. She only had a little while before the sun would set and they'd be forced to travel under cover of darkness. So they started off toward Hopper's Inn.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma was much surprised to find what looked more like a cluster of houses rather than a village only a dozen miles or so from the cave. They all looked strangely the same - stucco walls and thatched roofs and exposed beams. But they all had little verandas - if you could call them that - built like little platforms leading up to the front door.

She knocked on every door, but no one was home. Since the light was growing dimmer by the moment, she decided it best to find a way in and keep shelter there for the night.

She chose one near the front with two little beds that otherwise seemed vacant. She found some oats in the larder and a few pots and pans in the kitchen. She lit a fire in the small stone hearth, filled the smallest pot with some of the water from Killian's waterskin, and waited for it to boil. She was thankful she'd found the spring Killian had once told her of and filled the skin there at the start of their journey - especially since there seemed to be no well in this funny little town. She dusted her hands as she stood up and surveyed the small cabin. It had a certain whimsical charm, even if the walls and furnishings seemed a little shabby. There were lovely leaded glass windows that seemed rather ornate for a peasant and lush green vine with purple flowers growing on a trellis outside the front door.

_Clematis_, Emma remembered from her mother's lessons about all the flora and fauna of the realm.

_They must be wealthy peasants,_ She thought, noting the apple tree that grew just outside the ornate window in what looked to her like a parlor room. She opened the window and plucked a few apples from the tree. She sat down on the shabby-looking arm chair by the window and blinked in surprise at it's comfort.

"My goodness!" She exclaimed, "Very wealthy peasants indeed!"

She enjoyed her supper of oatmeal and apples. She enjoyed it so much she hadn't noticed that Killian had not moved from his spot in the kitchen, though she'd prepared a bowl for him as well and placed it on the table opposite her.

"Will you take no refreshment at all?" She asked.

He gave no response.

She sighed, exasperated, and pushed herself up from the table, taking the bowl and spoon she'd laid out for him with her as she crossed the room to meet him. She scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal and lifted it to his lips.

He remained unresponsive.

"Not even a bite?" She asked, using her best come-hither voice and batting her eyes at him coyly.

He was still and silent as a stone.

She huffed in frustration and slammed the bowl down on the counter beside them.

"Captain Killian Jones! You must eat something or you will starve to death!" She cried. He seemed to stiffen at that.

And then the most amazing thing happened.

He turned, picked up the bowl and spoon, and began taking slow bites.

To say that Emma was unnerved by this new development was the understatement of the century.

"Stop that," She said, eyeing him warily. Immediately, he stopped.

"Sit down over there," She commanded, her voice still very unsure. But he didn't seem to notice. He simply obeyed her, making his way over to the table and sitting down in a chair.

Apparently, Killian was completely and totally under her command.

She tried to stifle the laugh she felt bursting from her chest. It came out more like a snort and she would have been mortified if there had been anyone around to notice.

But there wasn't.

She would have to be very careful with this new power.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After they'd both eaten, Emma decided to give Killian a haircut and a shave with her knife. It would need some sharpening, but she found the whetstone in Killian's pack and made quick work of it.

When she was finished, he wasn't exactly what she'd call clean shaven - she wasn't skilled enough for that, but she'd managed to leave him with a handsome amount of scruff on his face and only a few nicks. She'd apologised of course, not that he noticed.

Emma had resolved to treat him exactly as she would if he were all there. Although she had already pushed away several very tempting thoughts of all the things she could ask of him now that he was totally under her control. He had always treated her respectfully when she was at his mercy, so she would do the same for him.

Once she'd groomed him properly, she had him stand and move out of the way as she cleaned up the mountains of discarded hair with a broom she found in a tall cupboard. She left the dishes on the table, not wanting to waste precious water on washing them until she knew for sure there was more nearby.

Her work finished, she smiled at him. He looked exactly as he had the day the Dark One had found her in the cave - although perhaps a little dirtier, his clothes faded and worn.

Just how long had he been standing there, guarding her, protecting her, waiting for her to wake? He seemed no older, but the state in which she'd found him indicated otherwise. How long had the sleeping curse kept them apart? What happened to the Dark One? To her parents? Were they still alive? Was anyone?

It all made her feel so terribly sad.

She rushed over to him and buried her face in his chest.

"Hold me," She sobbed. His arms came around her automatically and she willed herself to believe it was a real response to her grief.

Her mind knew better.

And her heart knew better than to argue.

She nestled her face in the curve of his neck, breathing in the scent of him - saltwater and fresh air and a hint of spice that could only be described as utterly Killian. She smiled and closed her eyes.

Even if they were the only two people left in the world, at least _he_ was with her.

_And I can live with that,_ She thought, placing a chaste kiss on his collar bone.

Just then, the front door swung open with a bang and a busty old woman with white-blonde hair and blue eyes stood in the doorway with what looked to Emma like a short metal spear with no head. With a swift move of her hand, something on the shaft of the weapon made two loud clicks and she narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

"Who are you and what the hell are you doing in _my_ cabin?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Surely by now you know I can't bear to leave you without a _little_ cliffhanger. ;)

UPDATE: This is NOT actually the end of the story. I did mention that at the top of the page, but apparently somebody (a guest reviewer) thought it was and left me some feedback that expressed their distress with the ending. So, just to clarify - this is not the end! Please reserve judgment about the quality of that ending until I've actually ended the story. Thanks! :)


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Ok. Definitely one more chapter after this because it's already written. I couldn't stop. But this one would have been impossibly long if I hadn't made the cut where I did and there wasn't really another good place for the break. Sooo… your reviews will make the next chapter get posted faster. ;)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Just then, the front door swung open with a bang and a busty old woman with white-blonde hair and blue eyes stood in the doorway with what looked to Emma like a short metal spear with no head. With a swift move of her hand, something on the shaft of the weapon made two loud clicks and she narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

"Who are you and what the hell are you doing in _my_ cabin?"

Killian sprang into action, gently but firmly pushing Emma behind him and would have charged at the old woman now pointing her double-barreled shotgun at them.

"Killian, stop!" Emma commanded. He did, of course. But she saw him tense, his clenched jaw an obvious sign of struggle between his compulsion to obey and his instinct to defend. It made her sad, made her miss the man she'd once known.

It made her all the more determined to find a way to break the spell and bring him back to her.

"Who are you?" The old woman said again, taking a step closer as she stared down the barrel at the pair of them.

"My name is Emma," She replied, "This is Killian. He's my..."

_Lover? Servant? Guardian? _Nothing seemed right. Whatever word she chose would either require a performance he couldn't deliver or reveal too much information about her station.

"Traveling companion," She finished.

"Nice to meet you," The old woman leered, "Now what are you doing in my cabin?"

"I do apologise," Emma stammered, "We were traveling through this land and needed a place to stay for the night. I knocked on every door but no one answered. It seemed like no one lived here anymore, so we tried the door and it was open. We were only going to stay for one night."

The Old Woman lowered her weapon.

"Which door?"

"The one in the back of the cottage," Emma replied, matter-of-factly. The Old Woman sighed and set her weapon down on the table.

"Damn kids never remember to lock the back doors. This is exactly why I have a twenty-five and up policy," She grumbled to herself. She took a moment to survey them, noted their odd clothing and generally filthy state, the odd way the young woman spoke and the way the man said nothing at all. It was as if they were in character. "Must be LARPers, huh?"

"I don't know what you mean," Emma replied, genuinely confused.

The Old Woman smiled a little at that. They were good, she'd give them that much. Certainly better than some of the other packs of nerds that had rented out her cottages in the woods. And their costumes were far more convincing.

"Alright, you can stay. I'll go get the paperwork for you to sign."

"Paperwork?" Emma replied, her eyebrow raised.

"Yes, paperwork!" The old woman barked, "This is a five star rustic resort village! What kind of establishment do you think I'm running here? If you're going to spend the night, you're going to pay the fee and fill out the paperwork so I can find your little elven ass if you trash the place with your magic spells or sword fights or whatever."

Despite the many words Emma did not recognize in the crude woman's speech, something clicked in her brain.

"Ahhh. You're an Innkeeper! And you've built these little cottages instead of a tavern with rooms upstairs. How charming! Of course, we'll pay you for your services and sign whatever papers you desire," She said, smiling brightly. The old woman simply gaped at her.

"Whatever you say, Blondie. A paying customer's a paying customer." She turned for the door, "Oh, and you can call me Granny," She called over her shoulder.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma had filled out the paperwork as the innkeeper called Granny had asked. She tried to hide her astonishment when the woman told her the date. She could hardly believe it.

She'd been asleep for a thousand years.

Killian had watched over her for a thousand years.

Her parents had been dead for almost a thousand years. Or might as well have been. The exact number made little difference.

Emma needed to grieve. And then she needed to find the grave of her parents. And after that, find a way to break the spell that had been cast on Killian. But for now, she needed to remain calm and collected. She could tell the old woman was already wary of her. She knew she needed to be extra careful to give her no further reason for alarm.

"Shall I pay you now?" Emma asked, reaching into Killian's old haversack.

"No, no," Granny replied, "I live in the cabin just next door. Just come knock when you're ready to check out." She glanced at the speechless man who never left Emma's side. He looked like he hadn't slept in a century. "In case you decide to stay another night," She added.

"Thank you, Granny. You are too kind," Emma said, giving her the best smile she could manage under the circumstances.

"If you say so, Blondie."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

That night, Emma cried herself to sleep. She cried for her parents, for Anton, for the loss of everyone she'd ever known. Just when she thought she had exhausted all her weeping, she looked at her stalwart soldier standing still as stone by the window beside her bed.

And the uncontrollable sobbing started all over again.

She'd lost him. Her one true love. He was all she had left in the world and he couldn't even speak. How she longed for him to call her name softly, wrap her up in his arms, and stroke her hair as he whispered sweet words of comfort and consolation as he once did.

"Killian, please come and lie with me," She asked, sniffling. He obeyed at once. Perhaps he couldn't comfort her as he once did, but that didn't mean she couldn't find solace in his arms.

Emma felt sure she saw a change in him. There was a softness to the way he made his way over to her and sat down on the bed. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he stopped moving. She helped him out of his jacket and found some comfort in the way he seemed to understand her wishes without her needing to command him like a soldier. She pushed gently on his chest and he laid back on the bed. She settled in on her side, nestling herself against him. She wrapped his arm around her and pulled the heavy blankets over them both before laying her head on his chest. She traced shapes on his stomach with her fingertips and smiled as she felt his breath hitch in response to her touch. She placed a soft kiss on his chest. She could hear his heart beating slow and steady.

_At least I know he has his heart, _She thought, sighing and letting her body relax and snuggle him tighter.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," She said softly. She sat up a little and looked into his eyes, "I promise I will find a way to bring you back to me." She saw his eyes soften in the moonlight and could have sworn she saw tears welling in them. She placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips before laying back down with her head on his chest. She smiled as she heard his heart beating faster than it was before.

She let the sound lull her to sleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

In the morning, they rose early. Emma used the shower Granny had taught her about (with a surprising amount of tolerance) and she in turn gave Killian very specific instructions to do the same. She found a few sets of clothing in an old box in the wardrobe. They were very odd and didn't quite fit in the way she would have preferred, but they would have to do. They must have been left behind by former tenants. She made a mental note to leave some extra gold for Granny to compensate her properly.

She stood in front of the mirror in her new clothes. A tall pair of brown riding boots (just her size, as luck would have it), a grey top that was a little too big for her, a red leather jacket that seemed more like something Captain Hook would wear (albeit considerably shorter than his), and some indigo colored woven pants that looked unlike anything she'd ever seen before. They were a little snug, but hugged her curves and displayed her figure nicely. Emma smiled as she appraised herself in her new outfit. She'd never worn so many different colors at once before. She felt quite sure she looked more like a jester from the Carnivale than the long lost Princess of the realm.

"But I suppose that's a good thing," She said aloud to herself. She heard the water shut off and decided she'd better start looking for some modern clothes for Killian too. She'd found some similar indigo pants that looked about his size.

_Must be the fashion now_, She thought, shrugging as she tossed them onto the bed behind her. Then she dug in the box to find him a shirt, but couldn't find any with sleeves of a suitable length for the weather. And there were no other shoes or boots that had a match.

_He'll just have to wear his pirate coat_ _and boots_, She thought with a sigh, settling on a black short-sleeved shirt that would probably be too small on his muscular frame.

She decided to check up on Killian. It had been a while since she'd heard him turn off the water. She found him standing naked in the small shower room, dripping water everywhere, just staring into the mirror. Emma quickly covered her eyes.

"Killian! The towel!" He snapped to attention, ripping the neatly folded textile from the shelf beside him as if it was going to attack him. "You must dry yourself with it," She said, resisting the urge to peek at him through her fingers. She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips as listened to the sound of him using the towel to dry off. The whole situation was more than a little bit ridiculous, but she counted herself thankful she didn't have to bathe him. He was just so impossibly chiseled and desirable, she didn't know how she'd ever manage to refrain from taking advantage of his present state.

_All the more reason to get on with this quest_, she thought, blindly placing the clothing she'd found for him on the counter.

"Please put these on, then meet me in the parlor," She said, remembering to make his next steps clear so she didn't find herself in a similar situation.

Once they were both sufficiently attired, Emma made her way over to Granny's to settle their account. But no one answered. So she headed back to their cabin and left a note of thanks on the table along with some gold from Killian's haversack. She didn't know how much to give, having never paid an innkeeper or purchased her own clothing before. So she left all of it, save for a few doubloons.

In truth, the gold coins she left were at least a hundred times more than Granny was expecting to be paid, but Emma had no way of knowing that. And even if she had, she would have paid it gladly for all the kindness she'd shown two strangers who'd trespassed on her property.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma and Killian made their way to the Royal Palace. The roads they'd taken were unbelievably faster than any route they could have struck through the woods.

She was surprised to find the palace in much the same state as it had been after the Dark One's attack all those years ago. A little damaged, some of the turrets clearly ruined beyond repair, but overall still very much in tact, even if the stones were a bit darker than she remembered.

What surprised her most of all were the number of people wandering in and out of the gate.

There was a sign posted outside that said "Historical Landmark" and told the story of her parents and the Evil Queen. She made her way inside, staring in awe at the way her childhood home had remained largely unchanged. The tapestries were a little faded, the soft muslin draperies a brighter white than she remembered, but all the statues and paintings and even most of the furniture remained in their original places.

All throughout the castle were placards telling the story of the rivalry between the Old Usurper and Snow White and even King David, the shepherd boy who became a prince overnight when his twin brother James had been killed in a scrimmage with a cunning warrior. She read of how her parents fell in love and took back the Kingdom, of the curse the Evil Queen threatened them with, and how they'd made a deal with the evil sorcerer Rumplestiltskin to save the realm from certain doom. The tears rolled freely down her face as she read the story of their only daughter - the Lost Princess called Emma. How her parents never meant to have a child, but cherished her all the same and did everything they could to protect and prepare her for survival in her inevitable exile.

"Pardon me, Miss," came a soft voice from behind her. Emma turned around and saw a man with kind blue eyes offering a handkerchief. She smiled and accepted it graciously, sniffling as she wiped her tears away. "Please, keep it," He urged when she tried to give it back.

"Thank you," She said, her smile radiating both gratitude and sorrow.

"It's a sad story," He said, nodding at the latest placard before her, "Most people come here for the fantasy Disney experience," He added, gesturing to the gift shop and the glass coffin that could be seen through the open door to the Great Hall. "Hardly anyone ever stops to read the real story."

"I suppose they prefer the fantasy," She said with a sad smile, unsure of the meaning of a 'Disney experience', but fully understanding the sentiment behind his words.

"Not you, though," He said, smiling at her.

"No," She said with a sigh, "Reality has a beauty of its own, even in the midst of tragedy and darkness. I prefer the story of the King and Queen who sent their daughter away with a handsome pirate Captain to find a new life."

The man looked taken aback by her words.

"You know about the Captain?" He asked, slowly, his eyes wide and eyebrows creeping ever higher up his forehead.

"Of course," She said, smiling softly, "He is my very favorite part of the story." She looked down and found Killian's hand, giving it a squeeze before lacing her fingers with his.

August Booth had worked in The Royal Palace Museum for a long time. He'd grown up in a little cabin in the woods nearby. His family had lived there for centuries. His father was a terribly sentimental local historian and genealogist. August had inherited his fascination with the local history and taken a job at the castle when he was just a boy who'd impressed the curator with his knowledgeability, charming smile, and generally amiable nature. He'd worked his way up from fetch boy to cashier to greeter (in period appropriate costume and character) to full blown tour guide of the castle and grounds in the last fifteen years. A slow career trajectory to be sure, but there wasn't much else available in the remote region where he'd grown up. It was his childhood home and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving.

August knew everything there was to know about the royal family whose line had ended with the death of King David and Queen Snow. He'd spent years poring over local history books and children's storybooks and historical fiction that fell somewhere in between. While there were a few variations in the way each author told the story, they all ended in exactly the same way. When the time came for the Dark One to collect their daughter, the King and Queen had spirited her away with a mysterious man of no family and no account. His name was never recorded and his story never considered canon in any of the official story books. Their disappearance was precisely where the story of Princess Emma ended, according to everything he'd ever read.

But the local historians, mostly elders who lived in the surrounding areas and had heard the story from their parents, and their parents before them, and so on throughout the generations.

Some said the man was a pirate and he'd taken her captive on his ship - sailing away to some foreign land, never to be seen or heard from again. Others said he was a trusted Captain of the Royal Navy, specially appointed by the King for the task of rescuing the Princess and taking her into hiding. But no one knew anything beyond that.

But _this_ woman spoke of him like she'd heard his story a thousand times.

"It's not on the _official_ tour, in fact it's off limits to everyone but the staff, but would you like to see the bedchambers of the Lost Princess?"

"Oh yes!" She breathed, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Ready for resolution? Put some nice words in the little box below. Thanks for reading! :)


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: I dedicate this final (very loooong) chapter to **Polkie2** and **PlayingWithOblivion** who have been my most faithful readers and reviewers throughout. But I have to thank everyone who left words of encouragement on this story. Your excitement for updates and support has meant more to me than you know. I hope you love it! :)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"It's not on the _official_ tour, in fact it's off limits to everyone but the staff, but would you like to see the bedchambers of the Lost Princess?"

"Oh yes!" She breathed, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

August looked around to be sure no one of consequence was watching before leading Emma and Killian through a heavy door marked "STAFF ONLY" and made their way up the crumbling staircase.

"Watch your step," He warned, "Try to stay close. There are a lot of doors in here. Wouldn't want you to go through the wrong one and get lost in a part of the castle that hasn't been restored."

Emma smiled at the thought of getting lost in her childhood home. She'd spent every waking moment of her young life exploring every hall and staircase and every door leading to every room in the castle. But she let him lead her up the familiar path to her old bedroom, repressing the desire to tell him he was taking the long way.

They finally arrived and he unlocked the door with a rather large and antiquated key - just one on a whole ring full. Emma knew it wasn't original. _Her_ key and the lock it turned were both made of bronze instead of iron, and were etched with a more delicate kind of scrollwork. The lock and key must have been replaced at some point, but at least they tried to make it look like the old one.

Emma gasped as she stepped inside her old room. It hadn't been harmed at all by the Dark One's assault on the castle. And this room looked exactly the same as the day she left it.

The day she met Killian.

The day she wore that ridiculously impractical red satin ball gown to an informal family dinner.

The day her whole world changed with the sound of cannon fire.

The day she said goodbye to her parents.

And never saw them again.

Emma felt the tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she took a seat at her old vanity and stared into the tarnished mirror in desperate need of re-silvering.

August Booth was a fan of all things fantastical and supernatural. And this woman weeping in the old bedroom of the Lost Princess was the spitting image of the young girl he'd seen in all the old family portraits in storage that had yet to be properly restored.

He'd begun to entertain the idea that she might be the reincarnated Princess.

Or perhaps a direct descendant of the Princess herself.

Or maybe even a ghost.

He wouldn't rule out any possible explanation for the resemblance she bore to the girl in the thousand year old portraits, or how she knew about the Captain, or the way she was clearly affected by Princess Emma's belongings. He was determined to learn everything he could from her.

"Will you tell me the story?" He asked, stealthily pushing a button on the phone in his pocket to record their conversation.

She laughed, wiping her tears with the handkerchief he'd given her.

"Don't you work here? I'm sure you've heard it a thousand times."

He smiled and pulled up a chair, flipping it around and sitting on it backwards, like a horse.

"Like you said, it's a good story. Humor me."

She smiled at his eagerness.

_Perhaps it would do me good to tell someone the tale. Even if he already knows the story. _

"Very well," She began with a sigh.

And then she told the story of her life; careful to make it a narrative and use the appropriate pronouns. He seemed entranced with her words. Especially the parts about Princess Emma and Captain Killian Jones traveling together through the Enchanted Forest, escaping the pirate Blackbeard, and how they fell in love.

"And then..." She paused, knowing she'd come to the part where the Dark One had succeeded in casting the thousand year sleeping curse and trapped her in a crystal tomb.

"Then _what_?!" He urged, completely enthralled with the new chapters of his favorite story.

She laughed at his eagerness. A part of her wanted to tell him the truth, knowing there was a kind of beauty in the tragedy and loss that he would surely be able to appreciate.

But that would put her at risk. And if she were believed, it was highly likely that she would never be left alone long enough to find a way to break the curse that kept Killian a prisoner in his own body.

She just couldn't do it.

"And then the Dark One cast a sleeping curse that trapped the Princess in a crystal tomb. He said she would never be freed for a thousand years." She smiled as the man's eyes went wide in awe and he rested his head on his forearms, neatly folded atop the back of the chair. He seemed more like a child enraptured with a new tale at bedtime than a grown man listening to the same old story posted on placards all over the museum in which he worked. She admired his sense of whimsy.

"Did Killian find a way to break the curse?" He asked.

"Of course," Emma replied, smiling sadly as she lied.

"Let me guess," He interrupted. "True love's kiss?"

"Yes," She said, smiling at his obvious excitement.

"I knew it. And they lived happily ever after?"

"Naturally," Emma replied.

"But what happened to the Dark One?" He asked.

"I don't know. He disappeared, I suppose. Probably found another kingdom to terrorize," She said shrugging.

"It's such a wonderful story," He said, sighing and leaning back in his chair. "Even though it's very sad she never saw her family again. At least she found happiness with the Captain."

"Yes," She said, wiping a tear from her eyes, "At least she had him."

He smiled at her in silence for a while, admiring her beautiful golden hair and bright green eyes - just like the little girl in the portraits, having forgotten the silent man behind her who was obviously her partner. He didn't seem to mind his ogling, but decided not to push his luck.

"This is also not a part of the official tour," August said, pushing himself up from the chair, "But if you like, I can show you where the King and Queen are buried. It isn't far, just a few miles from here by a secluded lake."

Emma's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, would you? That would be wonderful!" She exclaimed.

"Come on, my truck's outside."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The three of them made it safely in August's large metal carriage to the lake Emma had visited with her parents. The terrain had changed somewhat, but it was far enough from the tourist trap museum that it had largely been left undisturbed.

"There's a mausoleum by the castle that claims to be the final resting place of King David and Queen Snow. But it isn't. Only the local families who've been here for generations know their true resting place. Which is here." He said proudly as he led them over to a willow tree that grew right at the edge of the lake, on the far end, where the water was not quite so deep.

He held the curtain of branches out of the way for Emma and Killian to come through.

There, by the tree, were two grave stones. The names were Mary Margaret Blanchard and David James Nolan. Emma smiled. She remembered the stories her mother told of how she used that as a pseudonym when she was hiding from the Evil Queen. She was pleased that her father's name had been kept the same - except for the middle, which was clearly a nod to his fallen brother. Hardly anyone knew his birth mother's surname. She was never mentioned in any version of the story and had mostly been forgotten by anyone outside the family. But Emma remembered. August explained all of this to her and she nodded attentively, pretending she had no idea.

What touched Emma most were the quotes on each stone.

_"You'll find me?"_ Her mother's said, beside an ornate carving of a swan, engraved right into the stone.

_"Always." _Emma bent down to touch the letters on her father's headstone, smiling as the tears flowed freely. There was another swan on his stone, almost identical to the other, but the two birds had been made to face each other, the graceful curve of their necks and heads forming two halves of one heart between them. It was a beautiful tribute to their love and the love they bore their beloved daughter - even unto death.

"I'll give you a minute," He said, recognizing her need for space and making his way back to his truck. Emma listened, waiting till she heard the door shut, and then let herself weep softly.

There were a thousand things she wanted to say to her parents. To apologize for her behavior, for the way she'd resented them for keeping her cooped up in the castle when they were only trying to protect her. She wanted to tell them how much she missed them, how she wished she'd died in the castle with them rather than face the aftermath of the Dark One's curse. How angry she was at them for not explaining what had happened to Killian. Clearly they'd done something to him - to _make him_ protect her. But whether that was his own wish or their punishment for his failure, she didn't know. She hoped it was the former. Knowing Killian, she couldn't entirely rule out the possibility that he'd come up with the idea as a punishment for himself.

She leaned over her mother's grave and traced the shape of the swan in the stone with her fingers. The dwarves must have made the stones, only they could have done so with such skill that almost a thousand years later, they'd still be here, as beautiful and crisp as ever. Even the eye of the swan was remarkably detailed.

"Is that...? It can't be," Emma said to herself aloud, digging at something she thought she saw catch the light in the swan's eye.

But it _was_ something. It was a small blue jewel. It had been concealed by dirt and dust, but there it was just the same. As soon as her finger touched it, it glowed bright and clear and popped itself right out of the stone.

Emma marveled at it. Clearly, it was magical. It had practically leapt at her - as if it _knew_ somehow to respond to her touch.

_But what is it? _She thought, inspecting the brilliant blue stone in her fingers.

She looked back to her mother's grave stone to see if there was some kind of clue. Sure enough, buried deep in the swan's eye was a tiny scroll. She tried to dig it out with her nails but couldn't quite. Instead, she tried touching the edge with the tip of her finger just as she had with the stone, and sure enough it too leapt out of the narrow hidden cavern in the swan's eye and unrolled itself before her.

Emma wept.

It was a note. In her mother's handwriting.

_Dearest Swan, _

_Know that you are deeply loved and sorely missed by all the kingdom, your Father and I most of all. If you are reading this, then we are long gone and you have survived the Dark One's curse. We pray your beloved Captain is by your side, though we know not what the future holds for you or what treachery the Dark One may yet have up his sleeve. He has not been seen or heard of for fifty years. We can only hope he is dead rather than terrorizing another kingdom._

Emma laughed as she read her mother's words, remembering how similar they were to the very ones she'd spoken to August.

_My darling girl, I should hope it goes without saying, but even as I write these words of explanation, I cannot help but put them to paper. We beg your forgiveness for keeping you in the dark for so long. You must know that when we made the deal with the Dark One to protect the kingdom, we swore we'd never have a child. It was the price __we__ chose to pay for the protection of our people. But fate had other plans. And oh, Emma, we are so very glad it did. For you have always been the greatest joy of our lives. All that we have done from the day you were born was to protect you, our precious and most beloved daughter. We can only hope that one day you will forgive our shortcomings and transgressions. _

Emma could no longer control the sobs that wracked her body. The tears spilled from her eyes in a near constant flow and threatened to saturate the priceless note she held in her hands.

_If the Captain has survived, we are sure you believe him to be a Redguard. I assure you he is not. He is the Captain of the Dawnguard, the very highest rank in the very highest order of service in the kingdom aside from our own. It is our greatest hope that you restore to him what he freely gave in order to keep you safe. _

_Use the stone. Restore your love. And live! Live your dream, experience the adventure you've longed for all your life, write your own love story. Your father and I never imagined we would find a man who was truly worthy of you, our beautiful Swan. But we are certain there has never been a man more noble and kind and loyal and true to ever walk the earth. _

_You have our blessing. And all of our love. _

_Mama and Papa_

Emma crushed the note to her chest and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She was completely wrecked by her mother's words.

Taking a few moments to regain her composure, she rolled the note back up and tucked it in the pocket of her leather jacket. Then she rose to her feet and turned to Killian, ever the silent sentinel.

She approached him, stone in hand, and wondered what on earth she was supposed to do with it. Her mother had given her the key to break the curse, but no clue whatsoever how to use it.

She brought the stone up to the light to inspect it once more. It was such a beautiful shade of blue. Comforting, somehow. Almost the exact color of his eyes.

It seemed silly even as she raised her hand to try it. All magic comes with a price. It couldn't possibly be so simple.

"But I suppose I have to start somewhere," She said with a sigh.

She took a deep cleansing breath and closed her eyes, laying the jewel on the palm of her hand and raising it to Killian's eye level. She heard it begin to hum and she opened her eyes and gasped to see it glow and float right off the palm of her hand. Then came a flash of blindingly bright light and Emma covered her face with her hands to try to block it.

Then everything went silent.

She heard the jewel drop to the ground below.

Then she heard the sound of Killian's body sink to his knees on the forest floor.

She opened her eyes.

For the third, no fourth? - Emma couldn't even remember how many times she'd cried that day. But there she was, weeping again.

Her Captain had returned to her. He was moving on his own, rubbing his eyes, and it seemed like he was trying to catch his breath.

"Hook!" She rasped, her throat constricting. He looked up at her immediately.

"Swan!" He cried, eyes wide as the sky.

In an instant, he was on his feet and had scooped her up in his arms. He twirled her around and around and they both laughed out loud with unspeakable joy. Then came the weeping and smiling and whispered confessions of love and despair and hopelessness now proven foolish as they'd overcome every obstacle together.

He set her down on her feet and looked deeply into her bright green eyes.

"I love you, Swan." His voice was earnest and his eyes full of longing.

"And I love you, Captain," She replied, beaming with adoration as she looked up at him.

And then he kissed her. He kissed her like he'd been waiting to kiss her for a thousand years. Because he _had_. And he'd do it all again for the sake of her love and the joy he could feel radiating from within her.

"You waited for me. It was _a thousand years_ and you waited for me!" She cried, breaking the kiss.

"Aye," He replied, "It was worth every second."

And he kissed her again. He didn't think he would ever be able to stop kissing her. She melted into him and he crushed her frame tightly against his.

Then he noticed the stiffness of the leather jacket she was wearing.

"Bloody hell, Swan! What are you wearing?" He said, pulling back to examine her properly. Her cheeks flushed red at the way he appraised her. "Surely those trousers are indecent!" He exclaimed, though he couldn't hide the smirk playing about his lips.

"Ha!" She laughed, "Take a look at yourself, Captain!"

He looked down to take stock of his own attire. He was surprised at how form fitting everything was - one could make out the shape of his pectoral muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. He kicked to inspect his own leg coverings. They were similar to hers, but fit far more loosely than any he'd ever worn before, certainly not as snug as Emma's which looked more like a second skin than a pair of pants. But they were comfortable and seemed practical enough. He decided he approved of his new garments.

"It seems I look as devilishly handsome as ever," He said with a cocky grin. She laughed and he reached for her, placing his hands on her hips. "But you, Swan! Those pants leave nothing to the imagination! Couldn't you find a dress?"

She laughed, noting the obviously pleased look on his face despite his words of reproof for her immodesty.

"If you think _this_ is indecent, you should see the dresses they're wearing these days." Her eyes were wide and filled with a mischievous mirth as she stepped back and gestured to him to indicate the standard length of the dresses she'd seen on the women at the castle earlier.

He raised an eyebrow at her and licked his lower lip involuntarily.

"Good gracious," He said before leaning in and whispering in her ear, "We must find you one of those." She laughed and smacked his stomach playfully. He laughed and drew her closer, burying his face in her hair. She threw her arms around his neck and found his lips, kissing him again. Emma was certain she'd never get enough of feeling his arms around her, his lips moving responsively against her own, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at her, and the way he flashed that unbelievably handsome smile that seemed to leave her in such a state that she didn't know if she wanted to stand there and stare at him or jump his bones on the spot.

Their happy reunion was interrupted by the sound of August's truck door creaking open and then slamming shut.

"Hey guys! I need to get going. My break is almost over and the curator will roast me on a spit if I'm not back in five minutes."

"Truly?" Killian whispered.

"Likely not," She replied, just as softly. She left the happy canopy of the willow tree and made her way over to August. "I can't thank you enough for bringing us here," She said, taking his hand in hers, her eyes and voice both communicating the most earnest sincerity. August blinked in reply.

"Uhhh, sure! I mean, you're welcome." He pulled his hand away, uncomfortable with the way the formerly indifferent man was now sizing him up. He rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the growing tension he felt. "Do you need a ride back to the castle?" He asked, making eye contact with Killian.

"No, we'll be fine. We'd like to spend some time exploring the area," Killian answered.

August nodded and quickly climbed back in his old pick-up truck and brought it roaring to life. Killian seemed momentarily startled by the noise the ancient beast made.

"What _is_ that thing?" He asked, under his breath.

"They call it a truck. You're lucky you were unconscious for the ride over. It was terrifying."

The two of them turned and began to walk away. August put his truck in gear and turned it around to head back for the road. Then he rolled down the window and called out after them.

"Hey! I didn't catch your name!" He cried.

Emma smiled and called over her shoulder.

"That's because I didn't give it!"

And with that, she turned around and walked deeper into the forest, hand-in-hand with her pirate, ready to begin their next adventure and find their happy ending.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Everybody happy now? I hope so. I know I couldn't stop writing this because I was so excited to finally give these two some happy resolution/closure. I would loooove to write an epilogue for this. I want to write an epilogue for this. Ok, I'm GOING to write an epilogue for this. Possibly a few one shots in follow-up form. I have a few ideas in mind, but I'd be open to input from all of you lovely readers. If you have an idea or are eager for an epilogue, would you be so kind as to let me know in that little box below? Thank you! :)


End file.
